Bad Romance
by NayaFan
Summary: Brittany and Quinn are in their early thirties when they become adoptive parents to two girls, Santana and Rachel.Their marriage suffers when Santana takes an unhealthy interest in Brittany, but does Brittany feel the same? Rated M for a reason. ** Guest reviewers who spam me to update will be deleted.**
1. Chapter 1

_**I do not own Glee or any of the original characters, it all belongs to RIB and Fox. Anyone you don't recognise are my own creations.**_

_**This story is rated M for a very good reason so if you're underage, I'd suggest not reading this.**_

_**I felt inspired after watching 'Orphan' so some parts may be loosely based on that.**_

_**Brittany and Quinn are in their early thirties when they become adoptive parents to two girls, Santana(16) and Rachel(10). Their marriage suffers when Santana takes an unhealthy interest in Brittany, but does Brittany feel the same?**_

_**R&R please :)**_

Chapter 1

Brittany watches from the doorway as her wife straightens the sofa cushions for what must have been the fifth time today. She smiles softly at the nervous energy radiating from the woman, walking all the way into the room and engulfing her in a hug from behind.

"You don't need to be nervous, they're gonna love you" Brittany murmurs into Quinn's ear, resting her chin on the shorter woman's shoulder.

"What if they don't?" Quinn asks in a small voice, leaning back against her wife.

"They will" the taller blonde replies simply, placing a soft kiss to her neck. She grins as she feels some of the tension leave Quinn's body, relaxing in her wife's arms. Brittany knows the other blonde is terrified, they had been waiting on this day for almost six months, Quinn growing more anxious as the days passed, her desperation to do well overwhelming her at times. Quinn turns around to briefly press her lips against Brittany's before moving out of the embrace to continue cleaning up the already impossibly tidy house. The taller blonde shakes her head in amusement as she watches her, knowing to just leave her to it after being told off earlier when she made more mess while trying to help. Glancing at the clock above the fireplace, Brittany realises that they will be here soon and chooses not to mention this to Quinn, it'd be best for the nervous woman to stay distracted until they arrive.

"Shit" Quinn breathes when she hears the car pull up outside their house.

"Relax baby" Brittany murmurs softly, drawing the woman back into her arms and kissing her cheek. "We're ready, we have been for a while. These girls have been bounced from foster family to foster family for most of their lives, we're not going to do that to them. You should be pleased..not petrified" the taller woman tells her. "We can do this" she adds sincerely, giving her wife a chaste kiss. Quinn nods, exhaling heavily and trying to calm herself down. "They wouldn't be here if they didn't already like us" Brittany adds as a reminder as the doorbell echoes through from the foyer. The taller blonde winks at her wife, taking her hand and leading her to the front door. Brittany pulls open the door, revealing an older woman with greying hair and tight forced smile, two dark haired girls standing nervously behind her. "Hey Patricia, come on in" she greets with a huge smile. "Hey guys, it's awesome to see you again" she adds as the girls follow their social worker into the house.

0-00-0

Rachel looks around her new bedroom in awe, taking in the light pink walls and the matching comforter on the bed, grinning from ear to ear as the reality of having her own room, for the first time in her ten years of life, sinks in. She runs her fingers along the bedspread as she sits down on the bed, her legs dangling over the edge. Quinn smiles as she watches from the doorway, thrilled that the girl likes her room.

"Are you hungry?" The woman asks kindly as Rachel looks across at her, the girl rushing across the room to throw her arms around Quinn's waist.

"Thank you for my room" The brunette grins. "It's beautiful"

"You're welcome" Quinn smiles, hugging Rachel back. "Dinner's almost ready, you want to come down?" she asks, the girl nodding and following the woman downstairs and into the dining room where Santana is already sitting, the latina looking indifferent as she files her nails. "Not at the dinner table please" Quinn chastises her gently, Santana rolling her eyes but obeying and putting the nail file into her pocket.

"My room is awesome, San" Rachel announces to her big sister as she sits down next to her. "Do you like yours?" Santana gives the girl a stiff nod in response, folding her arms and leaning back in her chair with a bored expression on her tanned features. Her dark eyes bore holes into the tablecloth as she avoids looking at anyone, her gaze only lifting briefly when Brittany enters the room, placing a plate of pasta in front of her and Rachel before heading back into the kitchen.

"Are you guys settling in alright?" Brittany asks Santana and Rachel as she returns with her and Quinn's plates, kissing her wife's cheek as she sits down next to her.

"Yes, thank you" Rachel responds politely. "Thank you for dinner" she adds and Brittany chuckles.

"You don't have to thank me for feeding you" she tells their young charge, "It's part of the deal" Brittany adds with a wink. "How about you, Santana? You doing ok?"

"Yeah...thanks" Santana murmurs, glancing at the tall blonde briefly before going back to her food. Quinn watches from the corner of her eye as the sixteen year old eats a few fork-fulls before using the fork to push the rest of the pasta around the plate. She knows that these girls have had a tough life and it will take them a while to process everything, things that seem trivial to her and Brittany, like having your own bedroom, is a much bigger deal to the girls. Patience, she thinks, is all that will be needed. Patience and support and love will help these girls flourish, to come out of their shells and open up to them and that's what Quinn plans to give them. Her eyes flicker between the two sisters, taking note of the many differences between them, something she had noticed during the many meetings she and Brittany had with them in the past. Rachel is the one that caught their eye, the passion and energy is the girl is almost inspiring, her trustful and kind nature is something that could be dangerous but not when she has an older sister like Santana. The latina always hovering behind her sister, watching her with a weary eye and a hard demeanour that she exudes around people that so much as glance at Rachel. Santana's hard outer shell would prove to be a challenge to break through.

"You don't have to eat it right now, we can always heat it up later when you're ready for it" Brittany states, surprised when Santana glances up at her, a small smile on her full lips as she nods.

_**Just a small chapter to kind of set the scene. Let me know what you think :)**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**I do not own Glee or any of the original characters, it all belongs to RIB and Fox. Anyone you don't recognise are my own creations.**_

_**I've had a few PMs regarding Santana's age. Just to clear it up there won't be anything sexual involving her until the character is 18, if there's any at all.**_

_**Thank you for the reviews, i'm glad that there is some interest in this fic. R&R please :)**_

Chapter 2

Quinn smiles as she listens to Rachel tell her all about her first day at her new school, the girl chatting excitedly about the new friends she had made. She swings the Mercedes into the parking lot of William McKinley high school, spotting Santana straight away, shocked to see what Santana is wearing. The Latina makes her way across the parking lot, noticing Quinn watching her and knowing straight away the woman isn't impressed. She silently gets into the front passenger seat of the car and clips her seatbelt into place, avoiding eye contact with Quinn.

"What are you wearing?" the woman asks, appraising the teenagers newly acquired cheerleading uniform with a raised brow.

"I made it onto the squad" Santana shrugs. "We have to wear it" she adds.

"Isn't it a little short?" Quinn asks pointedly, sighing when the Latina shrugs and deciding to talk about it at home. "How did the rest of your day go?" she asks as she starts the car.

"Fine" Santana murmurs, staring out of the window, a scowl playing on her features. The car is filled with an awkward silence during the short journey home, Rachel eyeing her sister carefully from her place in the back seat. She rolls her eyes at the skimpy cheerleading skirt but doesn't say anything, recognising the look on her sister's face and knowing the latina isn't in the best of moods. Quinn briefly makes eye contact with Rachel through the rear view mirror and shoots the girl a wink and a reassuring smile before focusing back on the road and reminding herself that it would take time for Santana to open up to her and Brittany. She doesn't miss the fact that the latina looks almost relieved when she rolls the car to a stop on their driveway, the teenager getting out of the car straight away and making her way up to the house and disappearing inside. Quinn and Rachel make it inside the house in time to hear Santana's bedroom door slamming closed.

"She's not a bad person" Rachel says quietly as she follows Quinn into the livingroom, the blonde turning to look at the girl in surprise.

"I don't think she is honey" the woman replies honestly.

"Most people do, she's just...guarded" Rachel murmurs, Quinn watching her curiously. "That's why they give up on her" the diva adds softly.

"Well, we're not giving up on either of you" Quinn states sincerely, pulling the girl into a gentle hug and kissing the top of her head. "We wouldn't have met with you guys all those times and then brought you into our home if we weren't serious" she adds. "Alright?"

"Okay" Rachel whispers as Brittany wanders into the room, just back from her daily run and watching them in concern.

"Everything alright?" the dancer asks as she walks over to them, pressing a soft kiss to her wife's lips in greeting.

"Yeah, everything's fine" Quinn tells her, sending her a look that says she'll explain later. "Why don't you guys go look at some take-out menus, we can treat ourselves tonight" she adds, waiting until Rachel and her wife head to the kitchen before she makes her way upstairs, hearing the low thrum of Santana's music as she walks along the hall. Stopping outside the teenagers bedroom, she realises she doesn't know what she's going to say to her. As desperately as she wants the young woman to trust her, she knows that forcing things would only do the opposite. Quinn knocks on the door, waiting for until she hears Santana voice her permission before entering, finding the teenager lying on her bed and reading from the biology book that she's holding above her head. "Hey" the woman greets and Santana uses the remote to turn her music off, looking back at Quinn with an unreadable expression. "We're going to order some take-out, why don't you get changed into something more comfortable and come down" the blonde suggests, frowning slightly as her gaze travels around the messy room.

"Sure" Santana responds quietly.

"And we need to have a little chat" Quinn states, the latina giving her a curt nod before going back to her book. "So be downstairs in ten minutes" she adds, rolling her eyes at the lack of response she gets before leaving the room, closing the door behind her.

0-00-0

The others look up from the menus as Santana shuffles into the livingroom, now dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a tank top, her raven locks falling freely around her shoulders. She silently accepts the take-out menu from Quinn and slumps down onto one of the armchairs without even looking at her sister or adoptive parents. Brittany and Quinn share a worried look over the top of Rachel's head, blue eyes silently questioning her wife.

"Rach, can you do me a favour please? I left my wallet in my car, could you go get it for me?" Brittany asks, "The keys are on the hook by the door" she adds, smiling as Rachel nods and leaves the room. "So I hear you joined the Cheerios" Brittany states, "Is Coach Sylvester still in charge?" she asks.

"Yeah. You went to McKinley?" Santana asks in surprise. Quinn and Brittany both looking shocked at receiving an answer that is longer than one syllable.

"I did, I was captain of the Cheerios in my senior year" The dancer tells her. "Don't you think you should have talked to us about this before you tried out?" she asks and Santana sighs softly, guessing what's coming next. "Quinn and I were think that it may be best if you wait a few months before starting any extra curricular activities and just focus on bringing your grades up first" Brittany tells her. Santana sighs, a scowl forming on her face as she fold her arms across her chest and leans back against the cushions.

"Once your grades go up then we can talk about you trying out again" Quinn informs her.

"Do I even get a say in this?" the latina asks petulantly.

"No" Brittany replies, her voice firm. "School work comes first. I remember how hard Sylvester likes to work the squad, it's too much right now" she adds with an air of finality. "We also wanted to talk to you about how late you went to bed last night, Quinn heard you at around two this morning. I know you're used to being able to do what you want but it's different now, we have rules that we expect you to follow so tonight, lights out by eleven please" Brittany tells her and the latina scoffs.

"I'm sixteen, I don't need a bedtime" Santana snaps.

"We'll be the ones to decide that, we're doing our best to make you comfortable but you have to respect us so lose the attitude" Quinn warns, not missing the eye roll and sigh that comes from the teenager but choosing to let it slide this time.

0-00-0

Santana wanders around the make-shift gym in the basement, taking in the mirror that ran from floor to ceiling on one wall, realising this is where Brittany must rehearse her dancing. She walks over to the exercise bike and climbs onto it, Quinn had told her to use the eqipment whenever she wanted. Exercising feels good, it always helps to clear her mind and right now she needed to for Rachel's sake. The younger girl always gets upset when her older sister loses her temper and Santana feels close to it as she thinks about how she is being dragged off of the Cheerios after just one day.

"Hey" Santana jumps when she hears Brittany's cheerful voice, she had been so lost in her own thoughts that she hadn't even heard the woman come in.

"Hey" she mutters in response, watching as her guardian starts stretching out, the woma surprising the teenager with her flexability. Santana's dark eyes rake over Brittany's leggings clad behind and toned legs and up to the taut abs that the sports bra leaves bare before cursing herself and staring down at the handles of the bike, feeling heat spread across her face.

"Are you ok?" Brittany asks, her sky blue eyes narrowing in concern. "You look a little flushed, maybe you should take a break" the woman suggests and Santana nods, clambering off of the exercise bike and quickly brushing passed the dancer and heading straight for the stairs. The latina quickly rushes to her bedroom, slamming the door closed behind her and slumping down onto her bed feeling foolish. No, she thinks to herself, you can't look at Brittany like that. She's married and thirty and not to mention your freaking adoptive parent Santana chastises herself, exhaling loudly and putting her head in her hands. She forces herself to push the image of Brittany stretching in her tight clothes out of her mind and grabs her backpack, rummaging through it until she finds her homework and praying that math would be a good enough distraction.

_**Alright guys, let me know what you think and I'll do my best to update quickly. Thanks for reading :)**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**I do not own Glee or any of the original Glee characters, it all belongs to RIB and Fox. Anyone you don't recognise are my own creations.**_

_**Thank you for all the reviews and thank you to all the people who have put this on alert.**_

_**R&R please**_

Chapter 3

Rachel looks around her warily as she follows Brittany across the busy courtyard of Mckinley high school, struggling to keep up as they walk through the crowd, the woman noticing this and slowing down. She sends the ten year old a reassuring smile as she takes her hand, guiding her inside the school. Brittany keeps a strong grip on Rachel's hand as they walk along the hallway towards Santana's homeroom, weaving in and out of the crowd of gathered students and their parents. The dancer smiles when she spots Quinn standing outside Santana's homeroom, chatting to a teacher she knows all too well.

"Hey Mr Schue" Brittany greets the man with a smile.

"Brittany! It's so good to see you!" Schuester responds cheerfully, his gaze flitting down to Rachel. "Hi, you must be Rachel" he smiles, Rachel nodding shyly.

"Rach, this is Mr Schuester, he runs the Glee club here. He took us to nationals when I was a senior" Quinn tells her, her hand smoothing out the girl's hair. "And again when Brittany was a senior" the woman adds, smiling fondly at her wife. "Rachel is a wonderful singer" Quinn tells their old teacher

"Well, I look forward to seeing you in the New Directions in a few years time" Will smiles before checking his watch. "It was great seeing you guys but I gotta run" he states. Rachel looks around for her sister as the adults say their goodbyes to each other, smiling politely at the man when he waves to her. Craning her neck, she spots her sister standing a little further down the hall, talking to a guy with a mohawk, Santana running her hand down the boy's bicep as she flirts with him. Santana looks over at them, rolling her eyes when Quinn motions for her to come over and kissing the boy's cheek before sauntering over to them. The Latina accepts the hug her little sister gives her before giving her guardians a strained smile.

"Hey, how was your day?" Quinn asks her, feeling disheartened at the small shrug she receives as a response."Is there anything you need to tell us before we speak to your teachers. You haven't been in trouble with any of them?" she queries.

"I've only been here for a week" Santana scoffs with another patented eye roll. "Give it time" she adds with a smirk, causing Rachel to shoot her a look of disapproval. "Relax, I was kidding" the Latina tells her, "Come on, the guidance councillor wants to talk to you guys" she adds to the two blonde women. Brittany watches Santana curiously as the teenager leads them down the hall, clearly in a rush to get things over with. So that she can go back to avoiding us, Brittany thinks to herself in disappointment.

"Is it still Miss Pillsbury that is the guidance councillor?" the dancer asks, more out of a need to get the girl talking than out of interest.

"Yeah, she weirds me out. I found her cleaning a door handle with a tooth brush" Santana responds, Brittany laughing and nodding.

"Yeah, she does that a lot" the dancer tells her. "She's cool though, she helped Quinn and I come to terms with our sexuality when we were here" she adds.

"Really?" the Latina asks in surprise, her guardians didn't seem like the type of people to struggle with being a little different.

"Yeah, we got a lot of crap from other kids, not just for being gay but because I was a sophomore and Quinn was a senior. Miss Pillsbury told us that two years may seem like a lot in high school but it's nothing once you're older" Brittany explains, grinning at her wife.

"She does sound pretty cool" Santana agrees. Quinn glances at her wife with an impressed expression, having not heard the teenager actually engage in a proper conversation since the girls had moved in, not even minding how small the latina's imput had been, it's still progress.

0-00-0

Quinn glares at Santana, the latina refusing to even acknowledge her presence in the room as she sits on her bed filing her nails. The woman crosses her arms over her chest and taps her foot as she waits for the teenager to look back at her, not willing to give up this time. The latina slowly lifts her gaze to stare back at her guardian, Quinn cheering internally at her small victory but keeping her gaze firmly locked on the girl.

"Do you have anything to say for yourself?" she demands in a dangerous tone, hazel eyes almost burning into Santana.

"We were just fooling around" the latina shrugs. "It's no big deal" she adds in annoyance.

"Really? Having a boy in your bedroom is no big deal? I've tried being lenient with you Santana but I have had enough of your attitude" Quinn snaps, "Testing the boundaries is one thing but going out of your way to cross them once they have been established is too much, I'm not going to stand for this any longer and neither will Brittany" she tells the teenager firmly.

"Whatever" Santana sighs, turning her attention back to filing her nails and Quinn feels her blood boil at being spoken to so dismissively.

"No, you will listen to what I have to say" She orders loudly, surprising the girl who looks up at her curiously. "You may not have to like me but you have to respect me little girl. You step out of line once more and you will lose every single one of your privileges. We have rules that you have to follow, all of them. You don't get to pick and choose which ones suit you. Whether you want to or not, you will do your chores tonight, not Brittany. Dinner is ready, you will come down and eat and then you will help with the washing up. Am I making myself clear?" Furious hazel eyes search Santana's face, noticing a glimmer of respect in the latina's dark eyes.

"Crystal" Santana replies softly, placing her nail file onto the bedside cabinet and standing up and motioning for Quinn to lead the way, the surprised blonde giving her a nod of approval before turning on her heel and walking down to the dining room, the latina close behind her. Santana doesn't say anything when they walk into the room, merely sitting down next to Rachel and immediately starting to eat, keeping her gaze focused only on her food. She wonders if she is being too hard on Quinn and Brittany, it isn't their fault that no-one had wanted her or Rachel before now, the fact that someone wanted them now should feel like a relief to the latina. For the first time since she had arrived, Santana doesn't ignore her adoptive parents during dinner, she doesn't initiate any conversations but answers any questions that are directed her way, Brittany and Quinn sharing a thrilled look at the signs of more progress. The hazel eyed blonde wishes she had called the teenager out on her crap days ago, the girl not exactly being pleasant but as least showing respect to the two women, which to Quinn, is a huge improvement.

"How about we all watch a movie tonight?" Brittany suggests as she pushes her plate away.

"Can we watch Funny girl? It's showing on HBO tonight" Rachel asks excitedly, Santana groaning and frantically shaking her head at Brittany, much to both her and Quinn's amusement.

"Well, why don't we watch something that everyone likes" Quinn states kindly, "And then we'll buy you your own copy to watch whenever you want" she adds, not wanting to watch it any more that Santana does. Rachel pouts as she thinks about it, wishing her sister and guardians had the good taste that she does, finally relenting with a soft sigh and a nod.

0-00-0

Santana's breath hitches as pale hands gently cup her face, thumbs gently stroking her cheeks and blue eyes staring deep into her eyes. The smell of familiar perfume stifles her senses and she moans when pink lips latch onto her pulse point, licking and sucking harshly, so doubt leaving a mark. Brittany slides her knee up in between the latina's legs, the teenager moaning softly and grinding against the limb.

"Jesus Quinn...what you do to me" Santana's eyes flick open, her hand poised in the waistband of her pajama bottoms. Her dark eyes widen as she hears the groans coming from down the hall, thankful that her little sister is a light sleeper. She grabs a wet wipe from her make-up bag, hastily wiping her hand on it and burying her head in the pillow. Panic takes over her, she doesn't know what's worse, teasing herself to the image of Brittany or the fact that the sounds of Brittany and Quinn having sex turns her on even more. She stands up, tip toe-ing across the room to her closet and silently slides her pack of cigarettes out of her backpack, walking back across the room and opening her window. With shaky hands she lights the cigarette, taking a long soothing drag, relishing the feeling as the smoke hits the back of her throat. Santana makes sure to blow the smoke out of the window but realises it doesn't matter, Quinn or Brittany wouldn't be leaving their bedroom until morning anyway. She stays at the window long after her cigarette is finished, trying to make sense of things and failing miserably, Brittany isn't her mother so why does she feel so guilty? Since when did she fantasise over women? Sighing, she pulls another cigarette from the packet, lighting it and sucking on it harshly as she stares out into the dark. She is so lost in her own thoughts that she doesn't hear her bedroom door open and the latina jumps when she hears Brittany's voice.

"What the hell are you doing?" the woman asks incredulously, striding over to the teenager and taking the cigarette from her hand and throwing it outside before slamming the bedroom window shut. "I could smell it from our bedroom" Brittany states, fury written all over her face. Santana forces herself not to look down at the blonde's perfectly toned legs that are clad only in a tiny pair of boy shorts. Glancing at her clock, the latina realises she had been at the window for the past hour and she curses herself for allowing her mind to wander. "Well...?" Brittany snaps.

"I'm sorry" Santana murmurs, her gaze falling onto Brittany's chest, not missing just how thin the woman's tank top is.

"Sorry doesn't really cut it. Go to bed. I'll talk to you in the morning" the dancer tells her firmly. The teenager looks at her guardian curiously, the blonde pointing to the bed and the latina flushes when her mind goes straight to the gutter. Santana realises Brittany is waiting for her to get back into bed before she leaves so she sits on the edge, still peering up at the blonde through thick eye-lashes. "All the way" Brittany orders, pulling the duvet back and motioning for the girl to swing her legs around.

"Brittany.."

"No. Not one word. You're in serious trouble right now and I am far too mad to even consider talking to you about it right now" Brittany says, cutting her off. "We just want to look out for you, let us do it" she adds simply as she pulls the duvet up to the teenager's chin, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead and leaving the room. Before going back to the bedroom that she shares with her wife, Brittany stops outside Rachel's room and opens the door a crack. She smiles when she sees the child sleeping peacefully and quietly pulls the door closed again and making her way back to Quinn who is now fast asleep. Laying down next to her wife, Brittany wonders just how long Santana has been awake, wincing to herself at the thought of the teenagers being awake while she was making love to her wife. Something about the latina worries her, not knowing exactly what it is but she trusts her instincts when they tell her something is wrong.

_**Alright guys, drop me a review to let me know what you think. Thank you for reading :)**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**I do not own Glee or any of the original characters, it all belongs to RIB and Fox. Anyone you don't recognise are my own creations.**_

_**Thank you for the reviews :) I'm doing my best to update this as quickly as I can, as soon as things go back to normal for me the gaps between updates won't be so long. R&R please.**_

Chapter 4

Santana wakes up to the sound of her sister singing as she makes her way along the hall, groaning when she glances at the clock and notices it's only just after nine. She ignores the small knock at her bedroom door, no chance in hell is she getting up at this time on Saturday. Burying her head in the pillows, she tries to go back to sleep, Rachel's knocking becoming insistent.

"What?" she groans, huffing loudly as Rachel walks into her room and sits down on the edge of the bed. "It's nine, on a Saturday...you better be dying" Santana mutters darkly.

"Nope, Brittany told me to wake you up. You're in trouble" the diva states matter of factly.

"I'm aware" the latina responds simply. "You can get out of my room now" she adds when Rachel shows no signs of leaving. "Rachel.."

"Fine, I'll go but you have to get up" the girl tells her big sister, waiting for her to nod before sighing dramatically and flouncing from the room. Santana rolls her eyes and debates with herself about whether to get out of bed or not, eventually acknowledging that it is wiser not to piss Brittany off even more. Throwing the duvet back, she swings her legs round and sits up, sleepily rubbing her eyes and yawning loudly. She decides that today isn't going to be a good day, her mood already sour from being woken up well before she wanted to be. The latina throws a hooded sweatshirt on over her tank top and trudges to the bathroom to relieve herself before making her way downstairs. Quinn looks up from her newspaper when Santana walks into the kitchen and slumps down opposite her at the kitchen table, sliding a mug of coffee to the teenager. "Thanks" the latina murmurs, avoiding her adopted mother's gaze.

"Did you sleep well?" Quinn asks her, deciding not to talk about the girl's smoking until Brittany came back inside from the garage.

"Yeah, I guess. Did you?" Santana asks, sipping at her coffee and finally lifting her eyes to look back at the woman, noticing the taken aback expression on her face.

"Uh..Yeah, thank you" Quinn answers, quickly recovering from her surprise at Santana's civility. "Are you hungry?" The teenager shakes her head in the negative, nowhere near ready to eat yet. "Alright well, Brittany is helping Rachel set up the dance mat in the garage but she'll be in a few minutes and then we'll need to have a little chat" the blonde tells her, almost confused at the lack of arguments coming from the latina, a simple nod being her only response. They both drink their coffee in silence, the first one that's actually comfortable for both of them, Santana only starting to feel awkward when Brittany enters the kitchen from the back door, steel in her blue eyes as she glances at the latina. The dancer pours herself a coffee before pulling a small brown bag from one of the cupboards and sitting down next to her wife, clearly still furious at Santana.

"I consider myself to be a pretty laid back person but there are two things I simply will not tolerate, one of them is smoking and the other is lying. You've done both things recently" Brittany states seriously.

"I haven't lied" Santana retorts in confusion.

"You've been hiding that you smoke from us, that's a lie of omission. In my book, it's as good as lying" the taller blonde tells her. She watches the teenager, the latina's shoulders slumping and she stays silent, realising she has no chance of talking herself out of this one. Brittany sighs and glances over at her wife, the hazel eyed woman taking a hold of her hand under the table and squeezing her hand in a silent show of support. "How long have you smoked for?" Brittany asks, her voice softening slightly.

"A couple of years" Santana mumbles, averting her gaze from the women opposite her when she sees the look of pity from them. Both Brittany and Quinn had been raised by loving, wealthy parents and neither of them can even imagine what it must have been like for the latina, spending half of her young life in the system. They know it must have been hard, losing her parents at only eight years old and having to look out for her sister while being moved from foster home to foster home. From what their case worker had told them, the girls had never lucked out with the homes they had been placed in, the foster parents only interested in the monthly cheques they received, spending more of the money on themselves than their charges. It must have been all too easy for Santana to get involved with the wrong people and to start messing with things she shouldn't have been.

"Well, it stops" Brittany tells her firmly, sliding the brown bag across the table. "Nicotine patches and chewing gum" she adds, motioning to the bag.

"We realise that you're addicted and we'll help you in any way that we can but we won't allow smoking in this house" Quinn adds.

"So, I'll go outside" Santana responds smartly. "You need to have willpower to quit smoking, I don't want to stop so I won't have any willpower" the teenager tells them with determination.

"You'd better find some. We will not put up with you continuing to smoke, you're sixteen years old. Like I said, we'll help you. We'll buy you patches and gum and whatever else you need for as long as you need them but not cigarettes" Quinn informs her, her voice growing stern and Santana feels herself getting more annoyed by the second.

"Prepare to be disappointed" she snaps, pushing her chair back and standing up.

"Enough!" Brittany demands loudly. "Stop being a goddamn brat Santana, you think you're so grown up but you're not. You're acting like a child. All we want to do is what's best for you but you can't even be the tiniest bit grateful" the dancer exclaims angrily, not realising just how mad Santana is getting.

"I didn't ask for this!" the latina screams, "I've had to be grown up since I was eight years old, I don't need someone to parent me now! And I definitely do not want it, you don't get to demand that I change for you" she adds, breathing heavily and glaring at the two adults.

"You agreed to this" Quinn reminds her quietly, the only one keeping her emotions under control. "We couldn't have adopted you if you didn't want us to"

"I did this for Rachel" Santana snaps, not even flinching when Brittany suddenly stands up, sending her chair crashing to the floor. She squares her shoulders as the tall blonde walks towards her, refusing to back down. "Go on hit me!" she spits, "I don't care" Brittany freezes.

"Santana, I'd never hit you and neither would Quinn" she replies softly, making sure to keep her hands where the teenager can see them. The anger in her blue eyes burns out and they turn sad as she watches the girl carefully, the latina reminding her of a panther that's ready to pounce. "Why don't you go down to the basement to calm down?" Brittany suggests, watching as the teenager visibly deflates and nods, turning to leave the kitchen and heading towards the basement steps.

"I know she has an awful attitude at times but you can't lose it like that with her" Quinn states quietly, walking over to her wife and taking her hand into hers. "Santana acts tough but she's fragile. Remember what the case worker told us, she went through a lot more than Rachel did, Rachel had Santana to protect her but nobody was protecting her" she reminds her wife gently.

"Yeah, I know" Brittany sighs. "I just feel like she's actually trying to piss us off Quinn"

"She probably is honey, she's used to people giving up on them. It's gonna be hard for her to believe that we won't and she's most likely trying to speed it up so that it hurts less. We are getting through to her though, there's been moments where she's allowed her walls to come down. We'll be firm with this but we have to be patient too" the shorter blonde says as she encircles her arms around the other woman's waist.

0-00-0

Santana curses under her breath as she forces herself to keep peddling, her calfs burning with her effort and sweat collecting at the base of her neck. She focuses only on moving her legs, her hands gripping the handles and her knuckles turning white as she tightens her grip. The latina almost chuckles at herself when she looks down and remembers she's still wearing her pajamas and her feet are bare and she feels like an idiot. An idiot for freaking out like she did and now for still feeling like it was a little but justified. Santana stares at the wall as she hears the basement door open, hearing footsteps on the stairs and feeling a warm hand on hers.

"Stop" Brittany murmurs. Santana shakes her head, continuing to peddle as hard and fast as she can. "Santana" The latina looks up into crystal clue eyes, her heart skipping a beat as she stares deeply into them. "It's ok" Brittany whispers and she stops cycling, allowing the woman to help her off the excercise bike. The dancer's heart almost splits in half at the vulnerability on the teenager's face and she pulls her into her arms, Santana burying her face in Brittany's neck, a loud sob erupting from her mouth. The blonde tightens her arms around her when she feels the girl's back heave and she slowly sits down on the floor, gently pulling Santana with her and holding her as she cries. Sobs wrack the young latina's body, the first time in a long time that she's allowed herself to just let it out. It's been even longer since she's allowed someone to witness it.

"I'm sorry" Santana chokes out, softly hiccuping as she tries to control herself.

"It's alright, you're alright" Brittany murmurs, rubbing soothing circles on the girl's back and humming a song that Santana hasn't heard before. "We're not going to give up on you, you can try to push us away but it won't work, I swear to you" she whispers. "Alright?" The blonde feels Santana nod against her neck and she can't help but feel relieved, hoping that this time, she really is getting through to her. Brittany holds her until the girl pulls away from her body, swiping at her tears and blushing.

"Sorry" the latina tells her in a small voice. "I'm all sweaty" Brittany chuckles lightly and shrugs her statement off.

"I'm a dancer, I'm used to it" she smiles. "I'm sorry if I scared you. You're safe here, you know that right?" Brittany asks in worried tone, studying the young woman's face, smiling softly when Santana nods. "I don't know much of what has happened in your past but when you're ready, you can talk to either of us. You may have agreed to come here because of Rachel but that's not why we wanted you here, we want both of you"

0-00-0

Brittany looks up from her place on the sofa with Quinn as Santana shuffles into the room, dressed in a pair of shorts and an old wife beater, her hair still damp from her shower. The dancer nudges her wife and tips her head in the direction of the teenager, Quinn smiling when she spots the nicotine patch on her upper arm. Santana notices them watching her as she sits down on the armchair and she sends them a small smile before turning her attention to the television.

"Thank you" Quinn states softly and Santana turns her head to look over at her, giving her a nod. "Rachel has a sleepover tonight with her friend Mercedes so we were thinking we could order some take-out and just relax with a movie tonight" she adds.

"Yeah, okay" the latina nods. Brittany shares a smile with her wife, thinking this just might be what they need, some time to give the teenager their undivided attention and a chance to really talk to her. Santana doesn't miss the smile between them and she feels a small surge of jealousy shoot through her, Brittany would never look at her like that. They all turn to the door as Rachel walks in, dragging her backpack that is stuffed full and is too heavy for her to actually lift.

"You got enough stuff in there Munchkin?" Brittany asks teasingly and Rachel blushes, having never been to a sleepover before and not having a clue as to what she is supposed to bring.

"It's just games and stuff" Rachel replies sheepishly.

"That's alright, I'll carry it for you" the dancer winks, pressing a kiss to Quinn's lips and standing up. "Jeez" she mutters as she lifts the bag, feeling just how heavy it is as she places it on her shoulder. "I'll meet you in the car" she tells the child who nods. Rachel walks over to her sister, hugging her tightly and they both realise it's the first night they've spent apart in eight years.

"Have fun baby girl" Santana murmurs, surprised at how emotional she feels. "I'll see you tomorrow" the latina adds when her little sister pulls away, the girl suddenly looking nervous. "Call if you need to" she tells her reassuringly and Rachel nods.

"Love you San" the small brunette whispers softly.

"Me too" the latina states with a small smile, looking up as Quinn wanders over to them, the woman holding out her cell phone to Rachel.

"Santana's number is in there" Quinn informs her with a knowing look, noticing the relief that crosses the little girl's face as she wraps her in a warm embrace. "Be good and if you need to come home then we can come get you, alright?"

"Alright" Rachel smiles, "See you tomorrow" she adds and the other two watch as she leaves the room, hearing the front door open and close a moment later.

"Are you alright?" Quinn asks Santana, the latina nodding. "You're not used to this, are you?" she asks and Santana shakes her head, Quinn taking the gentle hint and not pushing any further, knowing the teenager will talk when she's ready. "Does it help?" she asks, gesturing towards the patch on Santana's arm.

"Kinda, my hands feel like they don't have anything to do though" the latina replies with a quiet laugh and Quinn notices the frantic drumming that the young woman's fingers are doing on the arm of the chair.

"We can find something to help with that" the woman tells her as she sits back down on the sofa. She pulls her laptop from the coffee table and places it on her knees, "I'm sure we'll find something online" she adds, patting the space next to her and inwardly cheering when Santana moves to sit beside her. The latina keeps a few inches between them but to Quinn it doesn't matter, it's a massive step in her eyes. They mostly stay silent as they browse the internet, only ever speaking to point something out to the other and Quinn ends up ordering an electric cigarette for Santana. She states firmly that it's only to be used when the latina is desperate and on the verge of smoking. The blonde can't help but feel sad at the thought of seeing the sixteen year old with a cigarette in her hand and it hurts her that she's addicted to them at such a young age.

"I'll do my best" Santana mumbles softly.

"That's all anyone can ask of you" Quinn replies kindly as she places the laptop back onto the coffee table, thrilled that Santana stays where she is, she had been expecting the latina to rush back to the confines of the armchair on the other side of the room. Brittany grins when she comes home to find them sitting together and she plops herself down on the other side of the teenager, careful to keep a space between them for fear of making her feel crowded.

"She was fine" Brittany tells them, "She was that excited to see her friends that she barely threw a goodbye my way before she got out of the car" she adds with a grin. The two blonde's notice as Santana visibly relaxes at the news of her little sister being fine and they share a soft smile. "So, what kind of take-out do you guys want? Pizza?" she asks.

"Sounds good to me" Quinn tells her, Santana silently nodding in agreement and Brittany leaves the room again to grab a menu. "Brittany would live on pizza if I allowed it" Quinn laughs, "That's the way to her heart" Santana chuckles at this and sinks further into the sofa cushions, feeling her muscles loosen as she allows herself to relax for once, deciding that Quinn isn't as bad as she first thought. Maybe things wouldn't be too hard here, as long as she gets over this silly crush she has on Brittany and let them interract with her. The didn't ask for much, just for her to show them a little respect and to not smoke, not even blinking when it came to buying clothes for them or treating everyone to take-out. Santana returns the grin Brittany sends her as she walks back into the room with the menus and sits back down next to her, being here is definitely better than anywhere else she and Rachel have bee.

**Let me know what you think, I'll do my best to update quickly.**


	5. Chapter 5

_**I do not own Glee or any of the original characters, it all belongs to RIB and Fox. Anyone you don't recognise are my own creations.**_

_**Thank you so much for all the interest you guys have shown for this fic.:D**_

_**R&R please :)**_

Chapter 5

Santana jerks awake and is immediately embarrassed to realise she is using Brittany's shoulder as a pillow. She lifts her head and glances at the clock, noticing that it's only a little after ten and the dvd is paused, wondering where Quinn is.

"Sorry" she murmurs to Brittany, who waves her off with a smile.

"It's cool, you don't drool or anything" the dancer smirks. "Rachel called, Quinn's talking to her now, she got a little panicky when her friend's mom turned the light off. I think she was a little embarrassed but Quinn's calmed her down" she adds. Santana grabs her cell phone and frowns when there isn't a missed call from her little sister, Rachel would usually call her if she had a problem. "Are you okay?" Brittany asks when she notices the frown on the latina's features.

"Yeah, I'm just gonna go get more pizza" Santana murmurs, pushing herself up from the sofa and heading into the kitchen where Quinn is talking to Rachel on her cell phone. She frowns as she listens to Quinn talk and giggle with Rachel, pretending she isn't paying attention and grabbing a plate. She slaps a slice of pizza onto it and places the plate in the microwave, closing it with more force than it necessary and staring at it as it rotates.

"Yeah alright honey, enjoy the rest of your sleepover. Call me if you need to" Quinn states into her phone, "I love you too, goodnight" she finishes, ending the call and slipping her cell into her pocket. Santana blinks back sudden tears as she stares at her reheating food. "Are you okay?" Quinn asks carefully.

"Why did she call you?" the teenager asks abruptly, spinning around to look at her adopted parent. "Why not me?" she asks. "She always comes to me!" Santana snaps, slapping her hand down on the counter.

"Okay you're upset and I understand that but watch the attitude Santana" Quinn warns her. "You don't have to look after her all the time anymore, you get to a kid again. Rachel understands that and that's why she called me. You're her big sister who protects her and she clearly worships the ground you walk on but you don't need to parent her anymore sweetheart. Rachel said she'll talk to you in the morning when she comes home" Quinn states softly. "Let Brittany and I be the parents" she adds, pulling Santana to her as tears leak from her dark eyes. The teenager sinks into the embrace, burying her face in Quinn's shoulder. "She's still gonna always need you. You just don't have to carry everything on your shoulders anymore. We're gonna do that for you" the blonde murmurs, gently rubbing the latina's back and placing a soft kiss to her temple.

"I'm sorry. I just...no one wanted us" Santana choked. "They never wanted us, I tried to pretend it didn't hurt but it did. We were never good enough for anyone" she sniffles.

"No, you were always good enough. Whoever didn't want you are idiots, you're such a beautiful and intelligent girl honey, you should let people see that more often. We want you and we always will." Quinn states severely. "No matter what, we will always want you" she repeats.

"You promise?" the Latina asks, sounding much younger than she is.

"I swear to you" Quinn promises.

0-00-0

_She was so peaceful when she slept, you'd never be able to tell how horrible her life was if you looked at her now. It's your job to protect her, your job to take whatever your foster parents handed out just Rachel didn't have to. Your breath catches in your throat when you hear footsteps on the stairs, the drunken laboured breathing getting closer to you with each step she takes. No. Not this time. She will not hurt either of you this time, not if you have anything to do with it. So what if she kicks you out? Going back to the group home would be much better than spending another minute here, anything would be._

_"No!" you yell as the door crashes open, her ominous silhouette in the doorway sending electric waves of fear through your body. Everything pauses for what feels like eternity, you stare back at her, purposely avoiding the belt that hangs threateningly from her hand. Rachel's whimpering breaks the silence and your head whips around to face her, your body automatically moving to her and you guard her small fragile torso with hers. A strangled yelp rips from your throat as the belt lashes down and you briefly wonder what you've done wrong before remembering; you don't need to do anything wrong. When she is in this state your very existence is seen as an offence. Your hand shoots out and before you even realise what you're doing, you pull the belt from her grip._

_"You'll pay for that" she screams harshly, the strong smell of alcohol assaulting your senses and she grabs your arm. Her fingers dig painfully into the flesh of your upper arm as she drags you across the room and you know there will be bruises left behind. She throws you face first onto the bed and searing pain erupts all over the back of your body, your legs, your back, your ass and even the back of your neck after one poorly aimed strike. You take it. Your pain is nothing compared to the pain in your heart that you feel when she hurts Rachel and you're aware of her screaming, somewhere in the distance as your mind goes hazy. The last thing you hear before you black out is her screaming your name and begging the woman to stop._

"Santana...Santana wake up honey" Brittany's voice floats into the latina's unconscious mind and the girl wakes up, surprised to find that she's crying. "You were screaming" Brittany murmurs, sitting on the edge of Santana's bed and brushing jet black locks away from Santana's forehead, noticing the tanned skin is slick with sweat.

"It's okay. I'm fine" the Latina states, despite the tears that are still rolling down towards her ears.

"You're crying. You're not fine" the woman mumbles. " What happened to you?" she asks.

"I can't talk about it, not yet. I'm sorry" Santana whimpers.

"Hey now, don't apologise. You don't have to talk about it, what I mean is that if you ever do talk about it then I'm here" Brittany murmurs kindly.

"Can you stay with me? Please?" the teenager pleads.

"Of course I can" the blonde replies, motioning for Santana to move over and climbing into bed with her. The Latina lays her head onto Brittany's shoulder, feeling even more confused but safe at the same time. They lay there together in silence, Santana's tears slowly subsiding and she falls into a fitful slumber, Brittany not moving for fear of waking her up and she soon falls asleep too.

_**Sorry for the short chapter, the next one will definitely be longer. Let me know what you think :)**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**I do not own Glee or the original characters, it all belongs to RIB and Fox. Anyone you don't recognise are my own creations.**_

_**A/N - While I did take a long time to update this, I'd appreciate if a certain reviewer stopped leaving nasty comments about my personal life while attempting to pretend to be another writer. Thank you.**_

_**Thank you so much for all of the reviews for this fic, I lost inspiration for it for a little while but I seem to have a lot now so expect frequent updates for this :)**_

_**R&R please.**_

Chapter 6

Santana groans softly as she wakes up, her eyes stinging and swollen from crying herself to sleep the night before. She frowns slightly when she realises that she is alone in her bed, not remembering when Brittany left and feeling disappointed that she isn't still with her. The latina is surprised to see that it's almost noon, someone would normally have woken her up by now and she assumes they've allowed her to sleep late because of the nightmare. The nightmare, she sighs shakily as she remembers it's contents, the memory of their life before Brittany and Quinn had saved them from having to continue living it. Just thinking of Brittany causes her heart to thump in her chest, remembering the feeling of having the woman's arms around her and she shakes her head as though to remove the image from her mind. She shouldn't be feeling like this, she's her adoptive mother and she's married to the woman that Santana's little sister is starting to view as a mother. She pushes her raven locks from her face as she sits up in bed, her breath hitching as she tries to ignore all the images of her dream that floods her mind. The latina forces herself to stand up, even though her body felt like it needed several more hours rest and she pads across the room, jumping back when the door opens.

"Sorry" Brittany murmurs sheepishly when she realises she startled the teenager. "I was just coming to check on you. How are you feeling?" she asks, studying the girl's tanned features and frowning at the dark circles underneath almost black eyes. Santana shrugs, flushing in embarrassment as she thinks about having to be relaxed and coddled after a nightmare at sixteen years old.

"Bathroom" Santana mutters, squeezing passed Brittany, her gaze trained on the floor.

"Alright honey, I'll see you downstairs" the blonde replies, the bathroom door closing before she can say anything else. Brittany slowly makes her way downstairs, joining Quinn in the livingroom and slumping down onto the sofa next to her with a heavy sigh. "She's awake and will be down in a few minute" the dancer tells her wife. "She seems a little...off though" she adds quietly.

"Did she tell you what she was dreaming about?" Quinn asks, turning to face Brittany and tucking one leg underneath her body.

"No but it had to have been something awful, she was a complete mess. That's why I stayed with her, it was terrifying and heartbreaking to see her looking so small and vulnerable" Brittany murmurs. "Should we try and talk to her about it before we collect Rachel?" she asks.

"Yeah, I think we should. It would upset Rachel and Santana wouldn't want her to see her upset" Quinn nods. "Plus I think it has something to do with Rachel, it can't be a coincidence that she had a nightmare the first time she and Rachel are apart" she reasons, Brittany pursing her lips and nodding. "What do we ask her? I don't want to force anything out of her, I'd rather Santana told us about their past in her own time. All the social worker knew was that the girls had problems with a few of their foster parents, one of them in particular" she sighs.

"And that's all you need to know" Santana snaps as she enters the room, startling both women. "A person can have a bad dream without analysing it" she adds, slumping down onto one of the armchairs and avoiding eye contact with the two blondes. Brittany sighs as she notices the wall she had worked hard to knock down spring back into place, the latina's hardened features telling her that much.

"You don't think it's a little too much of a coincidence that you had a nightmare on the same night that Rachel spent the night somewhere else for the first time?" Quinn asks gently, Santana scoffing and looking at the woman as though she is an idiot.

"Coincidences happen" the latina states, "I'm the big sister, I can handle Rachel going to a sleepover without having some sort of breakdown"

"Santana, you were a mess last night, I didn't stay with you over a silly dream..you seemed traumatised" Brittany murmurs, her blue eyes full of worry and kindness. "I know your past is something that you don't want to remember but you always will and talking about it can help you, even if it's to a therapist rather than us" she says softly.

"I am not going to a damn therapist" Santana spits out. "I'm not talking about what any of it to anyone, you wanted to give us a fresh start so give us one and stop trying to talk about every crappy memory I have and don't you dare ask Rachel about it" she snaps, glaring at the two women.

"Maybe you should go downstairs" Quinn suggests, recognising the signs and realising Santana is close to losing her temper again.

"I don't have to go fucking downstairs!" the latina bites out, "People are allowed to get mad" she adds furiously.

"Well then, you can go back upstairs. I realise you're upset but I won't allow you to talk to Quinn like that" Brittany tells her firmly and Santana stares at her, feeling her throat tighten at the thought of Brittany siding with Quinn over her. The latina nods stiffly before storming from the livingroom and heading back upstairs, putting her weight into it as she slams the door, causing the frame to shake. Throwing herself onto her unmade bed, she chokes back a painful sob and buries her face into the pillows, freezing as she recognises the scent of Brittany's perfume left over from when the woman lay with her the night before. Santana's breath hitches as every single emotion, she has felt in the last couple of days, hits her like a steam train and she holds her breath, fisting her sheets and struggling to hold in the sobs that fight to rip from her throat. There's only one image in her mind and she is furious with herself because of it, Brittany is married, not only that but she is married to one of the nicest people Santana has ever met. She can't understand her emotions, why would her body betray her like this? Hadn't she gone through enough? Hadn't being beaten by the people that were trusted to look after her and Rachel been enough trauma for her in her short life? Now she has to go through falling for one of the only decent mother figures she had, doesn't she deserve a chance to just be happy? Santana struggles to her feet and stumbles across her bedroom and digs through her closet, pulling out the packet of cigarettes she had stashed there and pulling out a pair of jeans and a hoodie. She quickly changes and heads across to her window, forcing it open as quietly as she can and climbing out.

_**Let me know what you think :) Thank you for reading!**_


	7. Chapter 7

_**I do not own Glee or any of the original characters, It all belongs to RIB and Fox. Any characters you don't recognise are my own creations.**_

_**For reasons that some of you are aware of I had to leave this account for a little while. I am back for now and will be focusing only on a few stories until I am finished them. I hope you guys can be patient with me, I'm doing my best to update all of them but it may take some time.**_

_**If you guys are interested, I have set up a Tumblr account so that even those of you who don't have a fanfiction account (anons) can ask me things about my stories if you need to. The account is **__**NayaFanFF **__**:)**_

_**R&R please.**_

Chapter 7

Brittany can hear Quinn's voice floating through Rachel's open bedroom window, her wife unsuccessfully attempting to calm the young girl. The dancer paces back and forth along the path in their front yard, the coffee she's clutching close to her chest quickly growing cold in the cool night air. She has been arguing with herself for the last few hours, debating on whether to phone the police or not. Brittany knows that calling the police in a panic because a teenager has been gone for six hours would most likely just earn her a laugh and a request to call again but she still thinks she should call. The woman sighs as it gets steadily darker and colder, the damp air chilling her bare arms. She wanders back into the house and heads upstairs to her bedroom to grab a hoodie. Brittany stops by Rachel's room before she leaves and motions for Quinn to join her in the hall.

"I'm gonna go out and look for her, it's getting really cold outside and it's getting dark and I just can't sit here. I need something to do" Brittany tells her quietly, Quinn nodding.

"Okay but be careful and make sure you take your cell phone" Quinn states, "And..find her, okay?" she adds with a desperate edge to her tone as she glances inside the bedroom at the distraught ten year old.

"I will" Brittany promises, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to her wife's soft lips. "I love you" she murmurs.

"I love you too" Quinn replies instantly. Brittany smiles gently at her before making her way downstairs and outside, pulling her hoodie on as she walks. She stuffs her hands into her pockets as she braces herself against the cold, realising she has actually no idea where to look. Brittany decides to check all the places that she hung out at as a teenager and she heads to the local skatepark, actually hoping that she doesn't find Santana there considering how many times she and her friends had gotten stoned there when she was younger. She's relieved when she can't see Santana amongst the crowd of teenagers but one person does catch her eye, the kid with the mohawk that Quinn had thrown out of the house after catching him in Santana's room with her. Brittany sighs softly as she pulls open the iron gates and walks across to the half-pipe where he is sitting with a group of guys, wondering if anybody ever came to the skate park to actually skate.

"Hey hot stuff" Puck drawls as he lazily stands up and saunters across the concrete to stand in front of Brittany. "You here to have a go on the puckasaurus?" he asks cockily and Brittany scoffs and rolls her eyes. "Oh wait..I know you, you're one of Lopez's hot moms, finally had enough of the old lady?" Brittany glares at him in disgust and makes a mental note to tell Santana to stop hanging out with this guy.

"I'm looking for Santana, do you know where she is?" she asks in a clipped tone and he shrugs, looking pretty put out at being brushed off so quickly. "If you see her can you tell her to come home?" Brittany asks.

"Sure" he mutters with a shrug and gives the once over with his eyes before making his way back to his friends, no doubt bragging to them about how she was so into him.

"She's at the duck pond" Brittany whips around to see a blonde boy standing there, a skate board under his arm. "I saw her on my way here, she looks pretty down but I don't really know her so I didn't think it was my place to ask what was going on" he explains. "I'm Sam Evans, I'm in her English class" the boy adds.

"Thanks Sam, I really appreciate it" Brittany states with a relieved smile, "I'm Brittany!" she throws over her shoulder as she jogs out of the skate park, calculating the quickest way to the pond. She jogs the quarter mile to the pond, stopping beside a tree when she spots Santana sitting on the grass, gazing at the visibly upset girl and deciding to give her a few extra moments.

0-00-0

Santana hugs her knees close to her chest as she gazes out across the pond, the dampness of the grass seeping into the back of her jeans. Her eyes itch and burn from the tears that continue to slowly drip from her dark eyes and her mouth feels dry and disgusting from the six cigarettes she has smoked in the last hour. She wishes she didn't feel this way, why should she feel betrayed that Brittany defended her wife from her unnecessary anger towards her? This isn't Quinn's fault and it isn't Brittany's fault and it, most certainly, isn't Rachel's fault yet these are the people she blames. She blames Rachel for loving these women from the first time she met them, she blames Quinn for being the love of Brittany's life and she blames Brittany for being so damn perfect and beautiful. She wishes she didn't feel like this but she does and it fucking hurts. Everytime Brittany speaks to her, her pulse quickens and she finds herself staring at her pink lips..wondering how they would feel against hers and how her body would feel up against hers. Santana shakes her head violently, as though she is attempting to make the thoughts fall from her brain and she chokes back a sob.

"Don't ruin this" she whispers to herself. "Two years..two years and you can get a scholarship and leave..two years" She pulls her cigarette packet out of her pocket and places yet another one in her mouth, lighting it with shaky hands.

"I guess the patches aren't helping, huh?" Santana jumps in surprise when she hears Brittany's voice, almost burning herself with the cigarette. "We were worried" Brittany states as she sits down next to her, reaching out and plucking the cigarette from Santana's fingers and stubbing it out on the damp grass. She silently holds her hand out for the packet, surprised when the girl hands it over without any complaints, along with the lighter. "I understand that you get angry and that you have been through so much more in the last eight years than most people do in a lifetime but you can't just run away" Brittany tells her gently, attempting to make eye contact with her but Santana's gaze remains fixed on the water.

"I can't talk to you or Quinn about it. Not yet...it's still...I just can't" Santana whispers, stiffening when Brittany's arm wraps around her shoulders before relaxing into the touch but for all of the wrong reasons.

"And that's perfectly alright, we'll be there when you're ready" Brittany reassures her. "But we do still think it's a good idea for you to talk to someone...this isn't healthy honey. Running away from problems only ever helps for a little while and then they catch up with you, it's gets worse the longer you leave it" Brittany explains softly. "Rachel's worried about you as well..if you can't do it for yourself then can you do it for her?" she asks, feeling bad for guilting the girl but knowing it's the only way to get her to agree.

"I'll try it" Santana mutters.

"That's all we're asking, sweetheart. We love you and we just want to see you do well in life, I'm proud of you for being willing to try it and we will support you every step of the way" the blonde woman states tenderly. Santana finally meets her gaze and the intensity behind those crystal blue eyes hits her like a steam train and she is unable to look away, mesmorised by them. Brittany leans forward to hug the young latina, freezing when the girl's lips press against hers and she jumps backwards, staring at Santana in shock.

_**To be continued.. I was planning to make this longer but I've had a couple of PMs tonight asking me to update so I figured I should just post what I have. I hope to update with a longer chapter within the next few days. Please review.**_


	8. Chapter 8

_**I do not own Glee or any of the original characters, It all belongs to RIB and Fox. Any characters you don't recognise are my own creations.**_

_**I was stunned by the reaction for the last chapter, thank you so much for all of the reviews. I'm doing my best to get back to all of you and to update this story quickly.**_

_**Flashbacks are in italics. **__**Flashback contains content that may be a trigger for some.**_

_**R&R please.**_

Chapter 8

Brittany gapes at Santana in a shocked silence, her blue eyes wide and her mouth slightly open, it'd be comical if it wasn't so damn serious. She stands up suddenly and starts walking away, Santana furiously punching the grass as she chokes back a painful sob, assuming she's blown her last chance and that Brittany has given up on her. The young Latina watches as Brittany abruptly stops, the woman turning to gaze at her with a mixture of curiosity and desperate confusing on her features. The blonde takes a few steps forward and the Latina can see anger brewing in those clear blue eyes.

"What the hell was that?" Brittany asks in a low, dangerous voice. Santana's brow furrows and she stares at her silently, still seated on the grass. "What? You don't know? How the hell can you not know?" Brittany demands harshly. She glares down at Santana as she slowly approaches her.

"Rachel kissed you goodnight the other night" Santana murmurs.

"What?" Brittany asks, the anger slowly leaving her.

"Rachel kisses and hugs you guys. It's cool, I get it. You don't view me as your daughter like you do with her. It's understandable, she's cute and sweet and never has anything bad to say" Santana shrugs, hating herself for guilt tripping Brittany but she knows it's the only way to fix this. Santana watches as Brittany deflates with guilt, her own guilt gnawing at her insides. The blonde gazes sadly at the younger girl, had she really just freaked out over an innocent peck on the lips? What the fuck is wrong with her? She feels terrible for jumping to conclusions and in doing so, rejecting the girl in the worst possible way. Brittany feels stupid, Santana had been reaching out to her as her daughter and she had flipped out like some sort of asshole.

"You are just as much our daughter as Rachel is" Brittany reassures her, kneeling down to her and placing her hand on Santana's shoulder. "I'm sorry, I don't even know why my mind went there...I am so, so sorry honey" Brittany murmurs. "We love you, Santana. We love you and Rachel, please forgive me..I'm still new to this and a few minutes ago..that showed. I may make mistakes but I'm trying" she pleads softly.

"It's okay" Santana whispers as Brittany gathers her in her arms and she tries to blink away the guilty tears that pool in her dark eyes. She looks up into her adopted mother's eyes and feels a powerful surge of guilt when she sees the sadness and guilt inside them..she has caused this, to save herself she has made Brittany feel like crap.

"No, it's not" Brittany sighs. "There was nothing okay about how I reacted and I swear to you that I will never ever make you feel like that agan" the woman promises, hugging Santana close to her, completely missing that the girl's breath hitches. "Come on, let's go home...you're freezing" the blonde woman murmurs softly.

0-00-0

Quinn engulfs Santana in a huge, maternal embrace as soon as the young latina steps into the house, the woman holding Santana tighter than anyone ever had and she finds herself sinking into it. Brittany shares a smile with her wife as she leaves the room to grab some stuff for Santana.

"Don't you ever do that again" Quinn whispers firmly as she squeezes her tightly before pulling back and studying Santana's face. She can smell the cigarette smoke on her but she knew that she would and she reaches into her pocket and pulls out the gum and patches. Santana eyes them warily before finally taking them with a soft sigh, noticing that this pleases Quinn.

"I'm sorry" Santana murmurs as Quinn places an arm around her shoulders and guides her into the livingroom just as Rachel enters from the kitchen, the young girl glaring at her older sister. "Rach..are you okay?" she asks, attempting to pull Rachel into a hug, only for the younger girl to shrug her off.

"No! I'm not okay! You ran away and you've been smoking again!" Rachel snaps, hot angry tears rolling from her eyes. "Stop being so damn selfish" she adds, shoving her sister with as much strength as she can muster. Which, luckily for Santana, isn't all that much and the latina only takes a staggering step back before she regains her balance.

"Rachel" the small girl jumps at the scolding tone to Quinn's voice and she immediately feels bad when she notices the broken expression on her older sister's face. "Violence is not allowed in this house, please go upstairs and get ready for bed..I will be up to say goodnight to you soon" Quinn tells her firmly, pointing to the stairs and watching Rachel dejectedly walk up them. Brittany glances up at the retreating girl as she returns from the kitchen with a hot drink and blanket slung over her shoulder, she shakes her head slightly in disapproval before walking over to Santana. The girl is staring into space, still standing in the same spot and Quinn shares a concerned glance with her wife as she gently guides Santana to the sofa.

_"You're selfish!" she spits, her rough hand wrapping tightly around Santana's wrist as she drags the teenager from the kitchen and up to the bedroom she shares with Rachel. "All you had to do was tell the fucking school that you fell but of course you had to pull your stupid silent act. Now they are suspicious of me...you're selfish" she screams, shoving Santana into the bedroom and following her inside, the loud slam of the door causing Santana to flinch._

_"I'm sorry, I panicked" Santana whimpers, wincing as her foster mother's grip tightens, her hand throbbing with the need for circulation. "Please...you're hurting me" The hard slap to the face silences her pleas and her head snaps to the side with the force of it. Her cheek throbs and tears leak from her dark eyes as she stares at the ground._

_"You keep your fucking mouth closed..you couldn't open it when you were supposed to so it can stay fucking closed now!" Santana can smell the whiskey on the woman's breath and all she can think of is that she's so glad Rachel isn't home from school yet. She swallows the huge lump in her throat as she is forced over the dresser, feeling her shirt being lifted and the harsh painful strike from the belt hitting her skin. It sounds like a gunshot and it takes her breath away. Santana forces herself to stay in place until the belt stops falling and the bedroom door opens and slams closed before crumpling to the floor in despair. Her back aches furiously but she can't bring herself to let the sobs out, she has to be quiet or she will come back._

"Santana?" the latina's head whips up at the sound of Brittany's voice, her eyes unfocused for a moment. "You're safe, honey" the tall blonde tells her as she sits down next to her and Santana notices that Quinn is on her other side, her arm wrapped tightly around her shoulders and her free hand stroking her jet black hair soothingly. Brittany places a blanket on her, tucking it up around her chin and Santana leans into Quinn's side as the woman wraps her other arm around her as well. "You're safe" Brittany repeats and Santana nods weakly.

"It was like you left for a few minutes" Quinn notes, she had seen the vacant look in the latina's eyes. "Where did you go?" she asks softly.

"Somewhere I didn't want to be" Santana mutters bitterly.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Quinn questions gently, her eyes full of support and love.

"No" the girl whispers, "Not yet..I can't..I, not yet" she whimpers and Brittany lays a comforting hand on her leg, not realising that this adds to the girl's pain.

"It's alright, you don't have to. Not until you're ready, we'll be here whenever you decide to talk to us" Quinn tells her sincerely and Santana nods, letting out a shaky breath.

"I guess I'm in a lot of trouble for taking off, huh?" she murmurs as Quinn nods.

"You are but we can discuss that in the morning, right now our main concern is getting you warmed up, getting some food into you and then getting you to bed" Quinn tells her calmly. "You're wet and cold and I think you're getting sick so the finger waving and scolding can wait until morning" she adds with a small smile. Santana can't help but smile back at her, it's weak but it's most definitely a smile and for once, it isn't forced...it's a start.

_**To be continued..Thank you for reading, reviews are greatly appreciated :)**_


	9. Chapter 9

_**I do not own Glee or any of the original characters, It all belongs to RIB and Fox. Any characters you don't recognise are my own creations.**_

_**A/N - I understand that you guys want quick updates for this and I promise you I'm trying. To the few people who send demands or try to guilt trip me, please be patient..updates aren't going to be written any quicker just because people tell me to update.**_

_**Thank you for all of the reviews for this story, you guys are amazing!**_

_**R&R please.**_

Chapter 9

Santana groggily swipes at the hand shaking her shoulder, moaning incoherently as she tugs her duvet over her head and sighing heavily when she can't pull it high enough, realising someone is sitting on top of it. She cracks her eyes open and gazes sleepily at Rachel, smiling slightly at how adorable her little sister looks in her princess pajamas with her mussed hair, the girl clearly just out of bed.

"Hey" Santana murmurs, her brow furrowing when Rachel's face crumples and tears flood her chocolate brown eyes. "Come here" she whispers and the younger girl scrambles into bed with her, burying her face in Santana's shoulders as the latina's arms automatically wrap around her.

"I'm sorry" Rachel sniffles into her sister's shoulder.

"You had a right to be mad, Rach. I shouldn't have just left, I know that must have scared you. I'm sorry" Santana explains seriously, tightening her arms around the girl.

"I shouldn't have pushed you though" Rachel argues. "I'm so sorry, you don't deserve to be hit...ever" Santana's eyebrows shoot into her hairline at her sister's words and she swallows the sudden lump that rises in her throat.

"Nobody ever deserves to be hit, Rach. No, you shouldn't have pushed me but you know that and you apologised, we're good...I promise" Santana murmurs, gently kissing her little sister's head.

"I love you, San" Rachel whispers as she snuggles into the Latina, gazing up at her with wide, brown eyes.

"I love you too, baby girl" Santana grins.

"I love them too, Brittany and Quinn I mean. Do you love them too?" Rachel questions innocently and Santana nods stiffly. She loves Quinn, she's kind and caring and loves her and Rachel but she doesn't just love Brittany, she's _IN_ love with her.

"Yeah..I love them too" Santana mutters.

"I'm in trouble with them" the smaller brunette pouts, Santana chuckling lightly at how adorable the girl looks.

"Yeah...a little. If it makes you feel any better, I'd bet that I'm in a lot more" Santana reassures her.

"Good. You deserve to be, stop running away!" Rachel scolds her. "You don't need to be scared of them" she adds softly and Santana nods despite the fact she does have something to be scared of; her feelings.

0-00-0

Quinn sighs softly as she pours herself a coffee, yawning loudly and smiling as she feels warm arms wrap around her waist and a chin rest on her shoulder. She leans back against her wife with a content sigh as she sips her coffee.

"You want one?" she asks kindly.

"No thanks, I've had like, three cups already this morning" Brittany sighs, pecking her wife's cheek. "Needed to keep myself going, I think I was awake for most of the night"

"So was I..I know she promised to at least try therapy but I'm still so worried about Santana. I mean, did you see her last night? After Rachel pushed her? It was like she left her body, I'm not gonna lie..it scared me" Quinn murmurs, placing her coffee on the counter and turning in her wife's arm to look sincerely into bright blue eyes.

"I know, I think Rachel triggered something. We're making progress though, she's agreeing to get help and I think she does actually want to be here" Brittany tells her softly.

"I do" Both blondes turn to the kitchen door in surprise when they hear Santana's voice. "I do want to be here" the teenager repeats softly. "I know I do dumb things and I say horrible things and I'm a nightmare to live with and I know I don't show it, but I want to be here" she explains in a small voice. "I'm sorry for running out, I know I scared you guys and Rachel and I know it was immature. I'll see the therapist and I'll do my best to stop smoking, I don't want you guys to regret bringing me here" Santana adds sadly.

"Hey" Quinn steps forward and places her hands on Santana's shoulders as she studies the girl. "We will never regret bringing you into our home, both of you girls are everything to us. Whether you like it or not, we're in this forever and we won't ever give up on either of you. Do you hear me?" Quinn asks sternly.

"Yeah" Santana whispers with a weak nod and Quinn engulfs her in a maternal embrace. "I'm sorry" she murmurs into Quinn's neck, apologising for a lot more than the woman is aware of.

"I know, honey. We'll talk about it together later, as a family. Right now though, you need to eat. I'll make you something, there's coffee in the pot and, here" Quinn states, pulling out of the hug and reaching into her pocket, handing Santana the electronic cigarette. "It came this morning" the woman murmurs. "Try it out" she adds as she moves away to prepare some breakfast.

"See? We're not that bad" Brittany grins, winking at Santana and causing to her pulse to race.

"I know" the teenager responds quietly and Brittany smiles again, kissing the latina's cheek. Santana has to force herself not to lift her hand, to not touch the spot where Brittany had kissed.

"I'm Gonna have a shower" Brittany informs them as she leaves the kitchen, leaving Santana frozen to the spot.

"Where's Rach?" Quinn asks, bringing Santana back down to earth with a bang and the latina forces a small smile to her face.

"She's just getting dressed" the latina states, grabbing a cup and pouring herself a coffee before sitting down at the table. "We had a little chat, she came in to wake me up" she says quietly. Santana stares down at her coffee, trying to keep her emotions in check. She wishes her body didn't betray her, that her heart wouldn't race and that heat wouldn't rush between her legs anytime Brittany so much as looked at her. Guilt fills her body as she watches Quinn make her breakfast, feeling an overwhelming burst of love for the woman and actually, for the first time in a long time, feels as though she has a mother.

"Morning, honey" Quinn smiles as Rachel wanders into the kitchen, the little brunette looking a little surprised when Quinn kisses her forehead before going back to cooking. "Have a seat, breakfast will be ready soon" she adds. Santana sends her sister a small, reassuring smile as Rachel sits down next to her, the girl laying her head on Santana's shoulder. Santana can tell that Rachel wasn't expecting to be greeted so kindly by Quinn this morning, not used to being shown affection even after doing something wrong.

0-00-0

Santana's eyes linger on Brittany's toned legs and backside as the tall dancer bends over to pick up the leaflet that she had dropped. Everything about Brittany is graceful, every moment so fluid...almost as though she is floating rather than walking. Santana has always known that she herself is a good looking girl and had always considered herself graceful but Brittany...Brittany takes it to a whole new level. Everything about her is beautiful, both inside and out. Santana abruptly diverts her gaze as Brittany stands up, focusing on the television instead and taking a drag of the electronic cigarette. She catches Brittany's amused gaze and she smiles nervously at her.

"It's pretty cool how the vapour comes out of your mouth..is it like smoking a real cigarette?" Brittany questions with genuine interest.

"Kinda, it actually tastes a little stronger..I'm still getting used to it. It's a lot better than the gum and the patches though plus it gives my hands something to do. What happens if I get addicted to this?" Santana asks quietly. Brittany gazes at her for a few moments before sitting on the arm of her chair and looking down at her.

"Well.." she sighs, "We don't want you to be addicted to anything but I, and I speak for myself, would rather you were addicted to that than actual cigarettes. That doesn't have any of the bad things in it that cigarettes do...we'll give it a couple of weeks and see how you're doing" Brittany explains with a kind smile, laying a comforting hand on Santana's shoulder and squeezing gently, not noticing that Santana tenses. "You're doing good, kid" she smiles.

"I'm not a kid!" Santana snaps, suddenly pushing herself off of the armchair as Brittany watches her, her brow furrowed in confusion. "I'm sixteen years old..I'm not a child and I hate...I hate that you see me that way!" she splutters.

"Hey..Santana, calm down. I didn't mean it like that, I'm sorry" Brittany responds gently, reaching out to grasp her arm, shocked with how violently Santana shrugs her off.

"I'm an adult!" Santana spits before storming from the room, her bedroom door slamming closed a few moments later. Brittany stands there in shock, trying to work out what just happened, relieved that she and Quinn had nailed the teenager's bedroom window closed.

_**To be continued..Thank you for reading :) Please review.**_


	10. Chapter 10

_**I do not own Glee or any of the original characters, It all belongs to RIB and Fox. Any characters you don't recognise are my own creations.**_

_**Thank you for all of the amazing reviews for this story so far, you guys are all amazing!**_

_**R&R please.**_

Chapter 10

Brittany sighs heavily as she slumps down on one of the kitchen chairs, her brow creased with confusion and frustration as she glances across the table at her wife. Hazel eyes filled with understanding stare back at her, neither blonde speaking due to the fact that Rachel is sitting next to Quinn, working on her homework. Brittany knows just by looking at her wife that Quinn had heard everything, she also knows that she is desperate to ask what had set Santana off. Rachel looks up at her with understanding eyes, she had heard Santana's little outburst too. The girl stands up, ready to go and speak to her older sister but Quinn catches her arm and shakes her head.

"Give her some time to calm down, honey," Quinn murmurs, knowing that Rachel wants to tell Santana off for losing her temper again and also knowing that it will only make the situation worse.

"Why don't you go finish your homework in your room," Brittany suggests, "but don't go into Santana's room." she adds. Rachel nods soberly and begins to gather her things up, silently leaving the room once she has done so. "One step forward and two steps back." Brittany sighs softly.

"What happened?" Quinn asks softly, her hazel eyes gentle and filled with concern as she gazes at her wife.

"I called her 'kid' and she freaked out," the dancer sighs, "She kept telling me she was an adult, not a child. Did I trigger something for her or something?" Brittany questions, guilt written all over her features.

"Don't look so guilty, babe. Santana had to be a grown up for a long time, to protect Rachel. She probably doesn't want to be seen as a kid, even though she is, because she doesn't want to feel vulnerable," Quinn murmurs. "She's trying to feel safe."

"She is safe!"

"Of course she is, I know that but she's not used to people actually giving a damn about her, she's not used to people being sincere when they tell her she's loved. Santana's had those walls built around her for a long time, it takes time to take them down," Quinn explains softly.

"What do we do? I know we need to be sensitive and give her time to completely adjust, but we can't just let her away with this behaviour," Brittany states quietly, her brows furrowed.

"I agree, we definitely can't and we'll punish her for her behaviour," Quinn nods. "We also just need to keep reminding her that we're in this forever and that we love her and Rachel. You tell someone something for long enough and they start to believe it, hopefully she will."

"Should we call her down?"

"I think we should leave her for a while and let her calm down. Santana always realises her mistakes and she apologises for it," Quinn replies.

"It's a good trait to have, to recognise when you're wrong and admit to it," Brittany says softly.

"It is," her wife nods. "She has a lot of good traits, and it's our job to help her realise that."

"She's convinced that she's a bad person, I wish she could see how truly great she is."

"She will, because we're going to remind her of them for the rest of our lives," Quinn murmurs. "She's already doing much better, she is really making an effort to stop smoking."

"Yeah, you're right, That's a huge step."

0-00-0

Santana groans loudly when she hears the quiet knock at her bedroom door. Why would she be sent to her room to calm down if they were just going to disturb her a few minutes later? She isn't even completely sure why she needs to calm down, she has no idea where her most recent outburst came from. Santana sighs when whoever is outside her bedroom knocks again and she buries her face in her pillow. Maybe they'll go away.

"Santana?" Maybe not. She ignores the muffled voice and closes her eyes, if she has to stay in here then she may as well get some extra sleep. "Stop ignoring me, I know you're in there."

"Jesus, what?!" Santana snaps, pushing herself up so that she's leaning against her headboard. She glares at the door as it opens, ready to chew out whoever it is. "Oh..sorry, Rach," she mumbles as her sister shuffles in. Santana can tell straight away that her apology is going to be disregarded, the grim look on Rachel's face tells her that. The younger girl is clearly not happy with Santana. At all. "What's up, baby girl? Everything okay?" Santana questions, watching Rachel with concerned eyes.

"No. Everything is NOT okay," Rachel replies coldly. "Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what? Sitting in here? Brittany told me to." Santana replies shortly.

"You know what I mean, San. Why are you acting like this? This is the only good thing that's happened since our parents died and you're ruining it! A lot of bad things happened to you, but you're punishing us for that," Rachel murmurs.

"I'm not punishing anyone for anything, Rachel. I have no reason to wanna punish anyone," Santana retorts.

"Yes you do."

"Why are you even in here? Don't Quinn and Brittany hate it when you come in here when they're trying to punish me?" Santana questions.

"They told me not to but I wanted to," Rachel shrugs. "What happened to you was..."

"You don't know what happened to me, you were safe in another room for most of it!" Santana interrupts, her voice suddenly acidic.

"But not all of the time," Rachel argues, "I saw some of it."

"But nothing happened to you. Don't you dare tell me you understand, because you don't. You were safe, Rachel," Santana murmurs.

"Because you looked out for me..protected me," the younger girl states softly.

"Yeah, of course I did, you're my little sister," Santana replies, unsure of where Rachel is going with this.

"More bad things happened to you because you protected me."

"Rach..."

"And you're bitter," Rachel whispers.

"What? No!" Santana exclaims.

"You resent me."

"Rachel, you're my baby sister. I don't resent you, I swear!" Santana tells her sincerely, her brown eyes wide as she stands up and moves across the room. She goes to wrap her arms around the smaller girl but she is stopped by Rachel raising her hand, signalling for Santana to stay back.

"But you will, one day, you will," Rachel whispers sadly. "When you remember something that happened or when you have a nightmare, you'll wish that we shared it!"

"No! Rachel, no! I will _never_ resent you or wish that on you, I wouldn't wish it on anyone and I _certainly_ would not wish it on you! Where is this coming from?!" Santana asks, terrified that the girl would feel like this.

"You're gonna hate me so I need you to not ruin this for us. Stop being horrible to Quinn and Brittany because I need them, I need them because you're gonna hate me," Rachel rambles, tears spilling from her eyes.

"Baby girl, I would never hate you," Santana swears. "Please, come here." Santana attempts to pull Rachel into her arms and she is shocked when Rachel pushes her hands away, her small frame shaking with the force of the sobs that rip through her body. "Rachel.."

"What's going on?" Santana looks up to find Quinn standing in the doorway. Hurt flows through her when Rachel throws herself into Quinn's arms, sobbing into the woman's chest. "Hey, you're alright, sweet girl. I've got you. What's the matter?" Quinn's voice is soft and maternal as she rubs Rachel's back. "C'mon, let's go to your room," she murmurs to the girl. Santana meets Quinn's gaze for a moment and the teenager is surprised not to see the anger and disappointed that she expected, only concern, love and curiosity. She feels as though her heart is breaking as she watches Quinn lead Rachel away, her little sister not even glancing back at her, just continuing to cry gut wrenching tears. Santana can feel her chest heaving and she gasps for air, slumping down on the edge of her bed and fisting the sheets tightly. All she can hear is her own loud, fast breathing and Rachel's pained sobs coming from down the hall.

_"Rach, please stop crying," Santana pleads, "she's gonna up here." She curses herself when Rachel's sobs intensify, her tiny body heaving with the force of them. "Baby girl, it's okay, I promise. I'll protect you, nothing bad will happen to you, I swear. Just please stop crying!" Santana's desperation triples and her body fills with dread when she hears the living room door being thrown open. She's coming._

_"San.."_

_"It's okay, babe, just please stop crying, please stop crying. She might not come in here." Santana knows her words are false, she's definitely coming in here now but she needs to quiet Rachel down before she does. The heavy and furious footsteps on the stairs grow closer and Santana's heart pounds in her chest. "You need to stop crying." Years from now, Santana will realise that asking someone to stop crying only causes them to panic and cry more but, in this moment, she's frustrated that Rachel is still crying._

_"Will you shut her up!" Santana's jumps at the sound of her harsh voice and she turns to gaze at her apologetically, nodding furiously._

_"Yeah, I will, I'm sorry," Santana frantically states. "She's just a little upset, I'll calm her down."_

_"You better, I'm trying to watch my fucking tv show. Calm her down right now, I'm not going all the way downstairs just to traipse back up in thirty seconds because that fucking brat is screaming again," she spits out._

_"I'm trying, she's just a little girl, she's scared," Santana argues quietly and desperately. "Please, just give me five minutes. Please."_

_"No, make her shut up. NOW!" Santana flinches, automatically taking a step back and pushing Rachel behind her._

_"Oh, you're being a smartass now, huh? Come here." The threatening tone to her voice sends chills down Santana's spine._

_"No, I'm sorry, please! Please, just let me calm her down!" Santana begs as Rachel screams and grips onto her worn shirt, her fingernails scratching into her sister's skin._

_"COME HERE!" she roars and Santana feels tears prickle in her eyes and she takes a step forward, knowing that if she refuses then Rachel will be targeted..she can't let that happen. The punch is harder than usual and the room spins, Santana's thin frame hits the floor. Hard._

_"Santana." Rachel's small and terrified voice is the first thing Santana hears, the metallic taste of blood filling her mouth. "Santana...Santana!"_

"Santana!" Santana jerks in suprise and gazes up at Brittany, her dark eyes unfocused and her head a mess. "Are you okay?" The teenager nods weakly and stands up, her legs shaky and feeling as though they won't be able to hold her weight up for much longer. "This needs to stop, honey. This behaviour."

"I know," Santana whispers. "I'm sorry."

"C'mere," Brittany sighs, pulling Santana into her arms and holding her tightly, frowning at how much the girl is shaking. "You're not going to chase us away so you can stop trying to now. We love you so much sweetheart," she whispers into jet black hair. Santana bursts into tears as she buries her face into Brittany's shoulder. She loves the woman so much that it hurts and she feels physically sick. Brittany loves her too, she knows that, but only as a family member. She's not in love with her.

"I'm sorry," Santana says again, her arms tightened around Brittany's athletic frame.

"I know, honey, I know. I forgive you, I always will. Whenever you misbehave we'll punish you, not abandon you. You need to get used to that. We're gonna be on your ass constantly," Brittany chuckles softly. Santana revels in the attention Brittany is giving her and knows that she'll regret it. It's only going to make her feel worse in the end but at the moment, it just feels too damn good in Brittany's comforting arms to move.

0-00-0

Quinn frowns as she watches Rachel move her chair away from Santana as she sits down with her bowl of cereal, her frown deepening when she notices the badly disguised hurt on Santana's face. She glances at Brittany and notices that her wife is watching Santana carefully, as if she's waiting for Santana to say something about the way Rachel is acting. It's pointless though, even now Santana wants to protect her little sister in every way; she'll never call Rachel out on her actions. Not now, not ever.

"Are you sure that's enough for you?" Brittany asks Santana, motioning towards the teenager's bowl of cereal which hardly has anything in it. Santana nods, forcing a weak, small smile to her face before looking back down at her breakfast and moving her spoon around, making no effort to actually eat anything. Quinn would be lying if she said she wasn't worried about Santana, she's actually more worried about her than she has ever been. Santana had hardly uttered a single word to them since the incident with Rachel. She would nod, shake her head or shrug when she or Brittany spoke to her or reply with one or two words but apart from that, nothing.

"I can make you something else," Quinn offers, "It doesn't look like you're enjoying that."

"It's fine," Santana shrugs.

"You really need to eat something," Brittany chastises gently.

"I'll eat at lunch," Santana retorts shortly, pushing her chair out and taking her bowl to the sink before walking out of the kitchen without another word.

"You should stop being so hard on her, Rachel," Quinn murmurs, watching the ten year old carefully. Rachel doesn't respond, merely sending Quinn a look that the woman can't quiet read. Quinn sighs softly and shares a concerned glance with Brittany, her wife giving her a nod of understanding as she chews on her bottom lip. "Why don't you go finish getting ready for school," Quinn suggests once Rachel is finished eating. Rachel nods, places her bowl in the sink and shuffles out of the room.

"You know, if it were any other set of siblings that weren't talking to each other then I would think it was normal but, with them, it's just weird. They're usually so close," Brittany states quietly.

"I don't think it's a case of them not speaking to each other, it's more of a case of Rachel not speaking to santana," Quinn sighs.

"I don't know, babe, Santana hasn't exactly been chatty Cathy this weekend," Brittany points out. "She was a total mess after the argument with Rachel but as soon as she calmed down she just went completely inside herself."

"I know. I don't like it," Quinn murmurs. "She's been polite and calm but she hasn't been Santana, I don't like it. At all."

"Neither do I. I just wish one of them would tell us what the argument was about, at least then we might be able to help." Brittany sighs in frustration as she stands up from the table, "I gotta get to the studio, are you gonna be okay to take them to school?"

"Yeah, absolutely," Quinn nods. "I don't need to be at work until eight so I'll just head straight there after dropping them off."

"Okay. I'll call you at lunch," Brittany says, dropping a sweet, chaste kiss to her wife's lips. "Love you, babe."

"Love you too." Quinn watches her wife leave and takes a sip of her coffee, wondering how the hell she's going to get through to Santana and Rachel and wondering if they will ever find out what was said during the argument that both of them refuse to talk about.

_**Shorter update than planned but something came up and I promised a lot of people that I would update today so here it is. Please leave a review to let me know what you think :)**_


	11. Chapter 11

_**I do not own Glee or any of the original characters, It all belongs to RIB and Fox. Any characters you don't recognise are my own creations.**_

_**I realise I must sound like a broken record by now but, I apologise for the long wait. This will now be updated **__**every Monday.**_

_**R&R please.**_

_**I know this is a much smaller chapter than some of you were hoping for, and I apologise. It's mainly a filler to set up for some big things that will happen in the next chapter.**_

Chapter 11

Santana scowls as she notices Mr Schuester approaching her in the hallway for the third time this week. The dude just didn't like to hear the word no at all, it seems. She pointedly ignores him as she opens her locker and throws her books inside, sighing softly when he leans against the locker next to hers. Closing her locker with a loud click, Santana turns to face him and raises a brow expectantly.

"Hi there, Santana," he smiles. "How are things going with Quinn and Brittany?"

"Same as they were the other two times you asked this week," she retorts in a sickenly sweet voice.

"Great, that's great," Schuester nods enthusiastically. "Have you given any more thought to my offer? We'd love to have you in glee," he states hopefully, an encouraging smile playing on his lips.

"It's still no," Santana replies firmly.

"Are you sure?" Will pushes, "I know you were looking for an extracurricular activity not too long ago. Glee club would be perfect for you."

"Yes, a specific extracurricular activity; the Cheerios," Santana sighs. "Something that actually interested me," she adds with a frown, unable to keep up the charade of finding the man tolerable any longer.

"I see," Will murmurs deflatedly, "well, if you change your mind..."

"I won't," Santana tells him firmly. "I have to get to class," she adds, turning on her heel and walking off in the other direction before the man can even answer. If Schuester realises she is walking in the opposite direction from her next class, he doesn't say it and Santana smirks victoriously as she turns the corner. She heads straight out to the football field and sneaks under the bleachers, smiling when she spots the person she is looking for.

"You actually came," the other girl notes, a tiny hint of surprise in her voice.

"I did," Santana nods, accepting the already lit cigarette that is handed to her and smiling at Mack. She notices that the other skanks are watching her with unreadable expressions on their faces and Santana is suddenly glad that she had been removed from the Cheerios. The uniform would have looked ridiculously out of place here.

"You're sure your mamas won't be mad that you're skipping class?" Mack questions teasingly.

"They're not my parents, so what does it matter?" Santana retorts scathingly, ignoring the guilt that tugs at her gut for denying that Quinn is her parent. Mack quirks a brow, but doesn't comment. She merely continues to look Santana up and down, obviously enjoying what she sees. "You're not exactly subtle, are you?" Santana notes dryly.

"Who says I'm trying to be?" Mack shrugs, "We really should get out of here though," she murmurs, "and find somewhere that's a little more private. That's if you're not too scared...you don't want to back out, do you?"

"Believe me, it takes a lot to scare me," Santana scoffs. "Come on, your friends are creeping me out with their stalker stares. My place is empty, Quinn and Brittany are working," she explains, throwing a disgusted glance at the grubby looking skank that continues to leer at her. Santana is surprised that Mack follows her so easily but, then again, who wouldn't? Santana can feel Mack's eyes on her as she leads the other girl to the parking lot, suddenly feeling foolish when she realises she doesn't even know if Mack has a car. She stops in her tracks and turns to face her, a sheepish smile on her lips.

"My truck's parked at the back," Mack states, a glint of amusement in her dark eyes. "New mommies, but no car to go with it, huh?" Santana sets her jaw and ignores the jibe. After all, she's not in this for Mack's personality.

0-00-0

Quinn sighs as she recognises the number that flashes up on the screen of her cell phone, wondering which teacher Santana had taken her bad mood out on this time. She swipes her thumb across the screen and holds the phone to her ear, answering curtly. She's in no mood for tedious small talk from the useless, stuttering principal. Quinn feels disappointment and anger bubble up inside her as she listens to what Figgins has to say, swallowing a sigh as he takes forever to tell her something simple. She hangs up after promising that Santana will be suitably punished and throws her phone onto the passenger seat with a muted thump. Quinn reaches over and picks her cell phone back up, placing it on it's holder and dialling Brittany's number, listening impatiently to the dialling tone as she backs out of her parking space.

_"Hey, babe!"_ Brittany's voice cheerfully floats into the car and Quinn automatically smiles.

"Hey," Quinn responds. "Listen, can you get out of work just now? I got a call from Principal Figgins, he says Santana isn't there," she explains.

_"What?! You're kidding me! We just talked to her about school last night!"_

"Yeah, I know," Quinn sighs. "She probably just went home...that's what we used to do when we knew our parents were working. Can I come pick you up?"

_"Yeah, I can leave. How far away are you?"_

"I should be there in around ten minutes, I'm sorry, I just think it'd be better for us to deal with this together," Quinn informs her, flipping off the other driver that cuts her off and scowling deeply.

_"Okay, I'll see you soon, babe. Love you."_

"I love you, too," Quinn automatically replies before reaching forward and ending the call. Sighing deeply, she forces herself to calm down. There may be a reasonable explanation for this. Then again, it's Santana, there probably isn't. The teenager had slowly been spinning out of control for the last few weeks, ever since she and Rachel had their falling out. Only at school, though. Santana had actually been amazing at home, Quinn and Brittany can tell that the girl is really trying. What upsets them is the fact that Santana has been making an effort for the wrong reasons, out of fear that they'd give up on her. They had yet to prove that they would never give up on her. It doesn't take her long to reach Brittany's dance studio and she is pleased to see Brittany standing outside, waiting for her. Rolling the car to a stop, Quinn lets out a low breath. Whatever is waiting for them at home, at least it'll be easier to handle now that Brittany is with her.

_**Just a small chapter to kick start things again. Much longer updates will be up every Monday. Happy New Year!**_


	12. Chapter 12

_**I do not own Glee or any of the original characters, It all belongs to RIB and Fox. Any characters you don't recognise are my own creations.**_

_**Thank you for the reviews for the last chapter :)**_

_**R&R please.**_

_**TRIGGER WARNING: Mentions of non-sexual child abuse. Please heed the warning.**_

Chapter 12

Santana bites down on her bottom lip as Mack's head disappears between her legs, her pulse quickening in anticipation. Her chest heaves as she feels hot breath against her inner thigh, a shiver running through her entire body. Santana's hands grip onto the cotton sheets when Mack's mouth makes contact with her sensitive, heated flesh and her hips jerk forward of their own accord. Mack's tongue works quickly and expertly, there's no need to take it slow...it's not why they do this. Santana can feel herself getting closer and she traps Mack's head between her toned thighs, ensuring Mack gets the job done.

"More," Santana utters quietly, her voice a mere whimper. Her voice catches in her throat, a strangled cry escaping from her lips as that familiar feeling washes over her. Santana's whole body tenses and her back arches, her body limply falling back against the mattress a few seconds later. She watches through hooded lids as Mack crawls further up the bed, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and grinning smugly. Mack pins Santana's hands above her head and trails kisses along Santana's jaw, her knee pressing against Santana's soaking, and throbbing centre.

"Too easy," Mack mutters, her teeth scraping against the soft skin of Santana's neck. Santana moans softly and closes her eyes. Mack's rough hands become Brittany's gentle ones, Mack's raspy voice turns into Brittany's soft, lilting voice and Santana tips her head back as pleasure ripples through her body. "Far too easy." Santana's eyes abruptly snap open, her eyes widening slightly as she takes in Mack's cocky features.

"You're not her," Santana whispers, frowning and looking down at her naked body.

"What?"

"You have to go," Santana states, her voice louder this time as she sits up and pulls the bed sheets over herself. "You need to leave."

"Oh, I see," Mack drawls, "I get you off but you think you're too good to return the favour."

"No," Santana murmurs, a frown etched on her features. "It's not that," she whispers, "you need to go."

"You heard her. Leave." They both jump in surprise, neither of them had even heard Brittany come home but there she is, standing in the doorway of Santana's bedroom, an unreadable expression on her face. "Now." Neither Brittany or the teenagers speak while Mack gathers her things up, Santana and Brittany staying silent even once Mack has made her hasty exit. Santana doesn't look up at Brittany, she can't bring herself to meet her gaze; she's scared of what she might see in those bright blue eyes. How long had Brittany been home? How long had she been in the doorway? How much had she heard? Worse, how much had she seen? Questions flood Santana's mind, and she feels guilty. Not just for disappointing her again, but for thinking of her _in that way_.

"Britt, is Santana up here? who was that girl...oh." Santana's gaze snaps up and her eyes fill with tears as she gazes at Quinn, seeing the disappointment and anger written all over Quinn's face. She still can't bring herself to look at Brittany and she looks at hands as they hold her duvet in place over her naked body. She can no longer look at Quinn. Not after thinking about her wife like that. After everything Quinn has done, after Santana has been looking at her as a mother figure... "Santana, get dressed and come downstairs." Quinn's voice is clipped and Santana can only nod, tears dripping from her dark eyes and the giant lump in her throat making it impossible for her to speak. Santana waits until she hears her bedroom door click shut before lifting her gaze again, staring brokenly as the closed door..the area that Brittany had been standing only seconds before.

"Fuck," she whispers, scrubbing her face with her hands. She feels dirty. The area between her legs feels slick, and she wants nothing more than to shower and scrub away every inch of her skin that Mack had touched. Forcing herself to her feet, Santana grabs a towel from her closet and shuffles out of her bedroom and into the bathroom. She turns the shower on and lets the towel pool at her feet, staring into the stream of water for a few minutes before stepping under it. She scrubs every inch of her body until the skin feels raw, her tanned flesh turning an angry pink in some places. Santana throws the sponge down onto the shower floor and lays her forehead against the cold tile of the wall, squeezing her eyes tightly closed as regret rushes through her.

_The hot water pounds her aching flesh and causes the slow healing welts on her back and bottom to protest angrily. It takes every ounce of inner strength that she has not to step out from underneath the stream of water. The shower is the only place where she is safe. It's silly. She's naked and vulnerable, yet nobody ever bothers her in here. They're not interested in what's underneath her clothes, they're not like that. They only care about punishing her for her multitude of sins. Punish. She scoffs at the mere thought of the word. It isn't punishment, she knows that, it's abuse. They call it spanking, but that's not what it is. It's beating. Her mother, before she died, had spanked her as a child; that is a punishment. Beating the back of her legs, her buttocks, and back with a belt until she's bruised, and crying so hard that she can't breathe, and then throwing her into her bedroom; is abuse._

_"Santana!" Rachel's terrified voice sounds through the bathroom door and she immediately turns the water off. Santana grabs her towel and wraps it around her body, ignoring the fact that her hair is dripping all over the floor. Throwing the bathroom door open, she ushers Rachel inside and closes, and locks, the door again. "I didn't mean to, I didn't mean to!" Rachel wails and Santana stares down at the little girl in horror. What had she done?_

_"Rach, it's okay. Calm down and tell what's wrong," Santana states as soothingly as she can. "C'mon, baby girl, just tell me," she urges._

_"I broke a vase, I didn't mean to! I just bumped into it, and it fell!" Rachel exclaims in despair. "They're gonna be so mad at me and I don't want to be punished, I haven't been punished by them before. Please don't let them," Rachel begs, her brown eyes wide and pleading. They both turn their heads towards the door when they hear shouting from the hall, Rachel's sobs becoming more scared and aching as each second passes._

_"Alright, it's okay, Rachel. Go to your room, I'll handle it, okay?" Santana says, rubbing the back of her neck nervously. "Rachel! Go!" she repeats. "I'll deal with it." She watches as Rachel runs from the bathroom and listens as their foster father makes his way upstairs, yelling and swearing. Santana steps out of the bathroom to meet him in the hall and he glares down at her._

_"You know what happened to the vase?" he barks at her, and Santana has to force herself not to take a step back. She nods as she grips her towel, tightening it around her body and staring down at her feet._

_"Yeah, I uh..I wasn't paying attention and I walked into it," she lies as casually as she can. "I'm sorry, i'll fix it."_

_"You'll fix it?! It's in a thousand fucking pieces, how are you gonna fucking fix it?" he demands furiously. Santana opens her mouth to responds but falters, Rachel hadn't told her how badly it had been broken and she suddenly wishes she had seen the vase before deciding to take the blame. Not because it would have stopped her from taking the blame in the first place, she'd do that anyway, but because she realises she could easily be caught out right now. She doesn't even know which vase it is, or which room it is in._

_"I'm sorry," she repeats, chewing on her bottom cheek and looking everywhere but at him._

_"Yeah, you will be," he grunts as he grabs her upper arm, his fingers painfully digging into her soft skin. "Get dressed, I'll back to deal with you," he adds, shoving her into her bedroom._

"Santana?" Santana jumps when she hears Quinn's voice, realising that she is standing in her bedroom with just her towel covering her. "You were just staring into space, your hair is dripping all over the carpet," Quinn notes.

"Sorry, I'll be right down," Santana apologises lowly, "I just needed to shower."

"As quickly as you can, please," Quinn states firmly, "we have a lot to talk about," she adds before leaving Santana's bedroom and closing the door behind her. Santana sighs shakily and shuffles towards her closet, picking out clean clothes with trembling hands. She hates that she still thinks about that, that her head is so stuck in the past, unable to escape everything that had happened, but unable to talk about it.

0-00-0

Quinn frowns as she walks into the kitchen, finding her wife leaning against the counter and staring into space. Brittany's knuckles strain against the her skin while she grips tightly to her coffee cup, an unrecognisable look in her light blue eyes. Quinn doesn't say anything, merely pouring herself a coffee and walking into the living room. She sighs as she sits down on the sofa, sinking heavily into the cushions while she waits for Santana to come downstairs. She wonders what exactly Brittany had walked in on. It's obvious to Quinn that something had been going on between Santana and that girl, why else would Santana have been naked?

"Living room," Quinn hears Brittany snap, realising that Santana must have finally come downstairs. She watches silently as Santana walks into the room with her head down, dressed in sweat pants and an old t'shirt with her wet hair hanging loose. Santana slumps down in her usual armchair and refuses to look at anyone, even when Brittany storms into the living room behind her.

"Babe," Quinn quietly calls out while patting the space next to her on the sofa, signalling for Brittany to sit down. As angry as she is, as they both are, Quinn knows that blowing up in Santana's face isn't the best way to start this discussion. Santana is like a wild animal once she is backed into a corner, her only instinct to fight her way out. If they want to solve the problems they're having, fighting isn't going to be the way to fix it. Brittany sits down with a heavy sigh and Quinn can feel just how tense her wife is, it's best if she starts this off; Brittany is nowhere near calm enough. "First things first," Quinn begins, "Santana, how often do you ditch class?"

"Not much," Santana whispers with a shrug.

"How often have you done it in the past?" Quinn questions, "Since you've been with us," she clarifies. Santana's dark eyes flit up to glance at her briefly, the conflict evident in the teen's gaze.

"A few times," Santana murmurs, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth and staring down at her hands. "It's just...it's hard," she mumbles.

"The work? Because we can make sure you get help with that, Santana. Skipping class won't make it any easier, it will only make it harder," Quinn states, her tone firm but gentle.

"No, just being there. It's hard sometimes," Santana says softly. Quinn nods, at least Santana is being honest with them..it's a good start.

"I know your childhood wasn't what a childhood is supposed to be like," Quinn notes with a nod, "and I know that you've had a lot of bad experiences with school in the past, but things are different now," she explains gently. "I know that's not going to make the past any easier to handle, but you're letting it control you...you're letting it effect your life now."

"You don't know anything!" Santana snaps. "You don't know, stop saying you do!"

"Don't speak to her like that," Brittany interjects coldly. "We're not in the wrong here, you are. It's not just skipping school, you had a girl in your bedroom and you were..." Quinn places her hand on Brittany's knee, stopping her from finishing her sentence.

"We were fucking," Santana states in an eerily calm voice, a flash of anger appearing in her eyes. "And it is none of your business. I can fuck whoever I like," she adds with malice, not missing the fact that both Quinn and Brittany flinch. "You may as well just send me back now if you don't like that," Santana snarls, directing her words and gaze at only Brittany.

"We're not going to send you back, we never will," Quinn states quietly, her hazel eyes flooding with tears. "Please don't talk like that..you're better than that, Santana."

"No," Santana shakes her head and laughs dryly, "I'm not. You don't know me and you are wasting your time trying to fix me, I'm more screwed up than you can ever imagine."

"Go to your room, we will talk about things once everyone is calmer. Stay there until I call you down for dinner," Brittany says loudly, stopping the conversation in it's tracks. Santana merely smirks at her and nods, leaving the two older women alone in the room.

"What the hell just happened?" Quinn asks in a whisper, her head in her hands as she tries to process what Santana had said to them.

"I don't know," Brittany sighs.

"Where do we even start? The ditching class? The girl in her bed? Everything she just said? Maybe she's just freaking out because it was a girl, maybe she didn't want us to know," Quinn murmurs.

"You're looking for excuses for her. We don't focus on the fact that it was a girl, we focus on the fact that she had someone in her bed while ditching school," Brittant states firmly. "As for what just happened, we make it very clear to Santana that she does not get to speak to us like that and then we find out why she said it. Right now, I'm going for a run," Brittany says, abruptly standing up. "I need to calm down." Quinn nods, letting out a low sigh as her wife leaves the room to get changed, wondering what the hell they are supposed to do.

0-00-0

_Santana scowls as she wanders into the boys' bedroom, her nose wrinkling at the smell. The eleven year old hates when she has to help with laundry, especially when she's sent to get dirty laundry from the boys' room. She knows she has to do it, though. The one and only time Santana had argued about it she had been whipped with the belt, and then sent to do it anyway. She lingers in the doorway for a moment and glares into the disgusting room, her gaze landing on the posters above one of the beds. Santana cocks her head to the side as she looks at the woman in the bathing suit, she's pretty._

_"Santana!" She jumps when she hears her foster mother's impatient voice and lurches forward into the room, dragging the dirty laundry basket out of the corner and across the bedroom. Santana stops when she notices a magazine sticking out from underneath one of the mattresses. Glancing warily at the door, she shakily reaches for the magazine and pulls it out from it's awful hiding place. She quickly runs across to the bedroom she shares with Rachel and another girl, stuffing the magazine under her pillow and rushing back to the boys's room. She drags the hamper along the hall and freezes at the top of the stairs with it, looking down at her foster father in terrified anticipation._

_"Santana, the nice social worker lady is here," he states, a sickenly sweet smile on his face. A smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "She wants to talk to you about how well you and Rachel are fitting in here, why don't you come on down." Santana nods and glances down at the laundry. "Oh, don't worry about that," her foster father says kindly, much more loudly than necessary. Santana knows he wants the social worker to hear him. "It's very sweet of you to want to help us, but we can take care of that. Come on down." Santana nervously walks downstairs, flinching when she reaches the bottom and he places his large hand on her shoulder, stopping her from walking any further._

_"I thought the social worker wanted to speak to me," Santana murmurs in confusion. _

_"She does," he growls into her ear. "You better be careful about what you say to her. She better leave this house with a huge smile on her face or you won't sit for a week," he whispers harshly. "Don't fucking mess with me on this, you know how well I can swing the belt!" Santana nods and swallows the huge lump in her throat and blinks back the tears that blur her gaze._

_"I'll be good, I swear," Santana murmurs nervously._

_"You better be," he grunts, shoving her in the direction of the living room._

Santana jerks awake when she hears a door slam somewhere in the house, breathing heavily and drenched in sweat. She listens to the yelling going on in the house, slowly realising that it's not angry yelling. They're playing some sort of game, she can tell by the competitive, playful arguing. Santana jumps again when she hears the knock at her bedroom door, and she realises that this is what woke her, not a door slamming.

"Yeah?" she croaks out, her voice thick with sleep. She smiles weakly as Quinn steps into the bedroom. "Hi," Santana murmurs. "I'm sorry abo..." she trails off when Quinn holds her hand up.

"We'll talk about that later. How are you doing?" Quinn questions quietly, sitting down on the edge of Santana's bed and laying her hand on the teenager's knee. She's pleased when Santana doesn't move her leg, if anything she looks comforted by the touch.

"That's why you're in here?" Santana asks, her brow furrowing.

"Yes. Don't get me wrong, you are in a lot of trouble but I could hear you crying in your sleep," Quinn murmurs. Santana touches her cheek, surprised by the moisture she feels, she hadn't even realised she had been crying. "Did you have a nightmare?"

"No worse than usual," Santana shrugs. "I didn't even mean to fall asleep."

"You've been out for a couple of hours," Quinn informs her. "Dinner's ready. Rachel has a couple of friends over so we'll deal with everything that happened today once they've gone home. Do you need to talk about your dream?"

"No," Santana frowns. "I'm not ready, not yet," she whispers.

"Okay, that's okay," Quinn nods in understanding. "Come down and have something to eat with us. I made my specialty."

"You got take-out?"

"I got take-out," Quinn confirms with a chuckle. She holds her hand out and gently pulls Santana to her feet, shocked when Santana hugs her tightly, fresh tears spilling from her dark eyes. Quinn wraps her arms around the teenager and holds her tightly, stroking her hair maternally. "I've got you," she whispers soothingly. "Things will be okay, I promise."

"What's wrong with me?" Santana asks softly, guilt flowing through her as she takes comfort in Quinn's embrace. The wife of the woman she thinks of while in bed with other people, the wife of the woman she is falling in love with.

"Nothing is wrong with you, sweetheart," Quinn assures her firmly.

"It feels like there is," Santana whispers.

"Well, there's not. I love you, Santana. Please stop thinking that we're going to send you back," Quinn murmurs pleadingly. "Please just tell me you'll try." Santana pulls out of the hug and swipes at the tears rolling down her face, gazing at Quinn sadly.

"I'll try."

_**To be continued next Monday. Please review.**_


	13. Chapter 13

_**I do not own Glee or any of the original characters, It all belongs to RIB and Fox. Any characters you don't recognise are my own creations.**_

_**A/N - I know some of you are frustrated about not knowing what Brittany is thinking. You're not supposed to know yet. It's a pretty complicated storyline, please be patient. You'll get what you want, but I'm not rushing this story - I don't want to ruin it.**_

_**Thank you for your reviews.**_

Chapter 13

Santana watches Brittany out of the corner of her eye as she uses her fork to push food around her plate, noticing that Brittany is doing the same thing. Occasionally, Brittany would glance in Santana's direction, disappointment evident in her gaze. Quinn doesn't seem to notice that neither of them are eating, or maybe she does but is just choosing not to comment on it. Santana's head is pounding and Rachel's continuous chatter with her friend, Kurt, only worsens her already terrible mood. At the same time, she can't help but listen to what her little sister is saying. It's the only way she can find out how Rachel's day was, she's still not speaking to Santana.

"You should eat," Brittany says to Santana, despite the fact that she has barely touched her own food. Santana gazes over at her, looking straight into Brittany's, now, unreadable eyes.

"You're not," Santana points out.

"I had a big lunch. You, on the other hand, have barely eaten recently," Brittany replies coolly. "Eat," she murmurs firmly.

"I'm not hungry," Santana responds simply. "May I be excused?" she asks, turning her attention to Quinn.

"Go get whatever homework you have and bring it down here," Quinn tells her. "Now," she adds firmly when Santana opens her mouth to argue. She's somewhat surprised when Santana nods stiffly and rises from the table, calmly leaving the dining room to do as Quinn told her. She smiles reassuringly at Rachel, letting the ten year old know that things are okay. She doesn't need to know what Santana had been caught doing. Quinn watches as Brittany suddenly leaves the table, taking her plate with her. She hears Brittany's plate being placed in the sink and then hears the basement door opening and closing a few moments later. Sighing, Quinn shoots Rachel and Kurt a smile and stands up, following her wife out of the room.

"I need to work on a routine for one of my classes," Brittany calls up the basement stairs as soon as Quinn opens the door. "I'll come up soon."

"You seem pretty worked up," Quinn notes, stopping halfway down the stairs.

"Well, it's been a pretty frustrating day," Brittany states pointedly.

"I get that you're angry," Quinn murmurs, "I am, too. We really should talk to Santana, though. Rachel is distracted by Kurt so it's kinda the perfect time. I don't want her to overhear it."

"Okay," Brittany nods, sighing heavily, "I'll be right up."

"Are you okay?" Quinn questions hesitantly, watching her wife in concern.

"Yeah," Brittany murmurs, "just..mad. I'll be right up," she repeats. Quinn nods and walks back up to the kitchen, frowning slightly. She knows something is really bothering Brittany because she always becomes distant like this, but she just wishes Brittany would talk to her about it. Quinn knows it's probably just the situation with Santana, but still...why should she be punished for it? She's mad, too. Hell, she's furious but she is also really worried about Santana. It'd be nice to be able to actually talk about things with her wife. She slips the switch on the coffee machine and leans against the counter as she waits, Santana silenty walking into the room and sitting down at the small table with her homework. Quinn eyes the girl curiously, wishing she could work out what is going on inside her pretty head. She can tell that Santana is purposely avoiding her gaze, she's been with them long enough for Quinn to have worked out what a few of her little quirks mean. Santana's body is tense, and her head is cocked slightly to the side; that means she is aware of Quinn watching her. She hears Brittany's footsteps coming up the basement steps and she pulls another mug out of the cupboard, pausing and glancing at Santana.

"Santana?" Quinn waits until Santana looks back at her, "Coffee?"

"Yeah," Santana answers quietly, her voice almost a whisper. "Please." Quinn nods and pulls another mug out before closing the cupboard. She watches Brittany out of the corner of her eye as she joins Santana at the kitchen table, sitting opposite her and leaning forward to check out what homework she has.

"When is that due?" Brittany questions curtly.

"In a couple of days," Santana replies quietly, chewing on her bottom lip anxiously. Quinn watches them both carefully, noticing that Santana seems nervous to be around Brittany. She assumes it's because of Brittany's visible anger. Despite the fact that Santana is constantly landing herself in trouble, she doesn't deal well with other people being angry.

"Make sure it's done on time," Brittany warns, Santana nodding and avoiding her gaze. Quinn pours their coffees and places Santana's and Brittany's on the table before grabbing hers and sitting down next to Brittany.

"Okay, so we have a lot to talk about," Quinn begins. "Let's deal with one thing at a time, shall we?" She waits until both Santana and Brittany nod, Brittany's silence informing Quinn that she will be taking the lead on this one. "You told us that you found school hard, that it's a difficult place for you to be sometimes. We want to understand, really we do, but you need to help us understand, Santana," Quinn states, thought not unkindly.

"Both of you?" Santana asks timidly, mistaking Brittany's silent fury as a sign of disinterest.

"I wouldn't be this furious if I didn't care," Brittany murmurs, "I just honestly don't trust myself to talk to you right now, Santana. I haven't felt this angry and disappointed in a lo...well, ever actually." Santana stares down at the grain of the table, shame flooding through her.

"I'm sorry," she mumbles, tears stinging the corners of her dark eyes.

"Help us understand, Santana," Quinn prompts, studying the teenager carefully.

"I just..I've had bad experiences with school," Santana murmurs quietly. "One of our foster parents had high expectations...too high." Brittany and Quinn exchanged a look, realising what Santana is saying, but still needing to make sure. Brittany nods; she'll take this one.

"Santana, honey, the foster parents you're referring to..did they uh.. were you punished if you got a bad grade?" she questions gently, noticing that Santana winces and tenses up, her hand tightening around her coffee mug. Eventually, she nods, blinking back tears.

"They expected As," Santana whispers, swallowing thickly, "anything less wasn't accepted."

"Did they spank you?" Quinn asks softly, reaching across the table and taking Santana's free hand into both of her own.

"If that's what you want to call it," Santana scoffs bitterly. "My mom spanked me,that's not what pretty much all of my foster parents did. They beat the crap out of all of the kids with a belt." Quinn gasps softly, her expression horrified and her eyes welling.

"Oh, honey," Quinn murmurs as Brittany moves to sit next to Santana. Santana ignores how her pulse races at the feel of Brittany's warm arm wrapping around her shoulders. "That's never gonna happen again, we would never harm you," Quinn promises. "You can expect to be grounded or lectured or given an enormous list of chores or something, but we will never lay a finger on you. Not even a spanking. I'm not judging your mom for that, we just don't believe in using physical punishment," she explains.

"And all we will ever expect is that you try your best at school," Brittany chimes in. As devastating as Santana's statament is to hear, Brittany and Quinn can't help but feel a little relieved that Santana is finally opening up to them, at least a little bit. They know this is just tip of the iceberg, know that there's still so much they don't know about what Santana went through, but they're glad she finally feels safe enough to disclose something.

"Thank you for telling us," Quinn murmurs, "we won't push you, but when you're ready to talk to us about anything, we will listen and we won't judge," she adds sincerely. "Can you please just promise us that you will go to school and stay there. Please?"

"Yeah," Santana whispers, "I promise. I'm sorry, I just..."

"It's okay," Brittany interrupts. "We're not making you promise to be okay about being there, we just want you to go. You can't try your best at school if you're not there, honey. If, at any point during the day, you need to get out of there or you need someone to talk to, you can call one of us. Or both of us if you need to. We love you, Santana, and we only want the best for you and we will do everything in our power to make sure you have the best life possible but..."

"I need to do everything in my power, too," Santana murmurs.

"Exactly," Brittany nods. "You're an amazing girl, and I know you have had a life that no child deserves, but if you try and you let us help you'll do amazing things. No matter what was said and done to you, that won't beat you, let it make you stronger instead."

"I'll try," Santana murmurs, swiping at a stray tear on her cheek.

"Thank you," Quinn states softly, gently squeezing Santana's hand and glancing at her wife, signalling that it's probably best if they move on to the next issue. Brittany nods, letting out a low sigh and scrubbing her face with her hand. "Okay, let's talk about what happened after you walked out of school today," she begins, noticing the light blush that colours the tips of Santana's ears. "I know we said no boys in your bedroom..." Santana chuckles lightly, looking across at Quinn with a, rare, genuine smile on her face. "We were meaning no...partners in your bedroom. Obviously, we don't care about gender, but we don't want you bringing people home, okay?"

"I'm not gay," Santana blurts out, "or bisexual or anything like that," she adds quickly, frowning. "I mean, I don't have a problem with people who are, but I'm not," she explains rapidly. "I was just...trying it," Santana adds lamely, mentally kicking herself.

"That's alright, young people experiment, that happens," Quinn murmurs reassuringly. "Are you a virgin, honey?" she questions gently, watching Santana carefully.

"Yeah," she murmurs, chewing on her bottom lip.

"Sex is complicated," Brittany states bluntly. "Even when it's with someone that you don't have any feelings for. You're not in a great state of mind just now, honey," she quietly states. "We don't want to come home to find you fooling around with someone in your bedroom. If you want to date, that's fine, but we want to know where you are at all times, and if you bring someone here then it will be when Quinn or I are at home."

"And your bedroom door will be open at all times," Quinn chimes in. "When the time comes when you're going to take it that far, you can talk to either of us about it. When I was growing up, sex was a taboo subject, I could never talk to my parents about it. I had to learn everything from books. Sex isn't anything to be ashamed of, we will happily discuss things with you. It's something you should be educated on so that you can practice it safely...when the time comes," Quinn explains kindly.

"Thank you," Santana mumbles, feeling a little embarrassed about talking it about it.

"The way I see it, if you can't talk about it and use certain words, you're not ready, sweetie," Brittany says gently. "Are you okay with everything we've talked about?" Santana nods shyly, swallowing thickly. "Okay, good. Now, we've discussed your punishment. You're on dish duty for the next two weeks and you're grounded. When you're not at school, you will be with one of us at all times. You need to earn our trust before we let you out of our sight," Brittany explains.

"And this weekend, you will help me set up for Brittany's party," Quinn adds, spotting the confusion on Santana's face, "it's Brittany's thirtieth on Sunday," she explains quietly, "it's alright, we know you don't know. We were given a file with your date of birth on it. You weren't given one with ours, we don't expect you to know everything about us just yet."

"We're a new family, it'll take time," Brittany smiles kindly. "And you will have plenty of time to learn all about us over the next two weeks."

0-00-0

Brittany sighs heavily as she catches a look at herself in the bathroom mirror while she brushes her teeth. She looks exhausted, and she hopes Quinn is already asleep. Spitting out the toothpaste and rinsing her mouth, she places her toothbrush back in the holder and leaves the bathroom, padding across to their bedroom clad only in a baggy t'shirt and a pair of boy shorts. She walks into the bedroom to find Quinn propped up against the headboard, a book in her hands and her glasses perched on her nose. Quinn offers her a smile as she climbs into bed, a smile that Brittany briefly returns before pecking Quinn's lips and rolling onto her side. Quinn gazes at the back of her wife's head and chews on her bottom lip, knowing that whatever was bothering Brittany earlier is still bothering her now.

"It's still kinda early," Quinn murmurs, placing her book and glasses on the bedside table and scooting closer to Brittany. "Maybe you and I could have a little fun," she suggests coyly.

"The girls are still awake," Brittany mumbles, her eyes still tightly squeezed closed.

"Well, then maybe we could talk," Quinn replies, "we haven't actually had a chance to speak on her our own today for more than a few minutes."

"What do you want to talk about?" Brittany asks with a sigh, turning around to face Quinn.

"We could talk about whatever it is that's bothering you," Quinn retorts, "but not if you're gonna continue to take it out on me," she adds pointedly.

"What? What do you mean, take it out on you?" Brittany questions, frowning in confusion.

"You've been weird with me lately," Quinn sighs, "I know you, and I know when something is bothering you. You usually talk to me when something is bothering you, so..talk to me," she prompts, gazing helplessly down at Brittany.

"Sorry, I don't mean to make you feel like that," Brittany states softly and sincerely. "I guess I'm just kinda stressed out, a lot has happened lately," she shrugs.

"Are you sure that you're not just worried about turning thirty?" Quinn teases, attempting to lighten the mood. She's glad when it seems to work, a small smirk tugging at Brittany's lips. "Because, you know, you're not suddenly gonna start sprouting gray hair. I survived turning thirty," she jokes.

"Actually, I'm actually really looking forward to my birthday. It's gonna be nice to have all the family here, Santana and Rachel are going to be spoiled by our parents. It's the one day that guarantees some happiness for all four of us," Brittany murmurs. "I think I just need to take it a little easier at the studio, I come home so tired because I'm busting my ass and so even the slightest little issue just really weighs on me," Brittany shrugs.

"Are you sure that's all it is?" Quinn questions quietly, not quite convinced by her wife's explanation.

"Yeah, I just worry about everything, you know," Brittany states, playing it down. "Rachel isn't speaking to Santana and it is just killing her, and it's hurting Rachel as well," Brittany sighs. "I just...nevermind, I really need to get some sleep. I have a headache and I have to get up really early tomorrow. Goodnight," she says, pecking Quinn on the lips again and turning away from her. Quinn sighs softly as she sinks her head into her pillow.

"Night," Quinn murmurs shortly, turning to face in the opposite direction. Maybe things will make more sense in the morning.

0-00-0

Santana sighs and stares down at her lap, refusing to meet Quinn's gaze; she doesn't want to see any of the pity that she is convinced will be in Quinn's hazel eyes. She doesn't really understand why the nurse had called Quinn, it was just a small panic attack. She has them all the time, she can handle it. Santana flinches slightly when Quinn places her hand on her knee, squeezing reassuringly. She's never had this before; someone who actually wanted to look after her and make sure she's doing okay. Someone who could reassure her just be touching her. Quinn calms her. It confuses her and relaxes her at the same time.

"Sorry," Santana murmurs, feeling bad for flinching, even if she didn't mean to.

"Don't apologise," Quinn tells her firmly. "I just need to go sign you out, I'll be right back," she adds softly, watching Santana for a moment before following the nurse out of the room. Santana hates this. Hates that she can barely control her own emotions, hates that Quinn is so much like a mother to her, hates that she is betraying Quinn with her feelings for Brittany. She also hates that something as simple as a teacher yelling at another student sent her spiralling into a panic attack. She's sixteen years old, she's not some dumb little kid. School shouldn't be so terrifying for her. Life shouldn't be so terrifying for her. What the fuck did she do to deserve being so fucking screwed up?!

"Oh yay, you're here," Mack remarks dryly as she walks into the room. "Just what I needed today," she rolls her eyes and slumps down on the nurse's chair. "Where is she?"

"Signing me out," Santana mutters, staring down at the waxed floor.

"You don't look sick," Mack notes.

"I'm not." Mack shrugs, realising Santana isn't going to go into anymore details about why she is going home.

"So, when are you going to return the favour?" Mack questions with a smirk.

"It's not going to happen again," Santana replies firmly. "It was a one time thing. I'm not into girls."

"You sure seemed like you were when I was going down on you," Mack remarks. "Really, really into it. You can't have just been experimenting because you didn't do anything, in fact it was me doing all the work. Although, I wouldn't have made such an effort had I know you were going to leave me out in the cold."

"Look, it was a mistake. Get over it," Santana retorts. "It's not going to happen again," she repeats. "I like guys, you were just means to an end."

"Nice," Mack snaps, "real fucking nice! I wish I had known you were such a stone cold bitch."

"I'm sorry," Santana shrugs. "I'm just not into that."

"Whatever," Mack scoffs, "tell your new mama that I hope she enjoyed the show," she adds coldly, standing up and stalking to the door.

"Wait!" Santana calls out, causing the other girl to freeze in the doorway. "What do you mean? Brittany didn't see anything, we had already stopped when she walked in." Mack sighs through her nose and narrows her eyes as she gazes thoughtfully at Santana.

"When I was going down on you," Mack begins, ignoring that Santana winces, "I was sure I heard your bedroom door open. I thought I was just imagining it because you said nobody was home.."

"They weren't when we got there," Santana interrupts, holding her hands up when Mack glares at her. "Sorry, continue."

"I kept going because nothing happened, I figured I really was just imagining things but I closed your door when we went in your room, I made a point of doing closing it. She must have been standing there while we were still...busy, because the I didn't hear the door open again. The next thing we knew, she was standing there. I dunno, I guess she was maybe shocked at what she saw but she had to have been standing there for at least a minute," Mack explains. "I didn't really think about it until the next day, when I tried to work out what actually happened. Whatever. All I know is I heard the door open once, and it was while we were still messing around, she must have seen some stuff," Mack shrugs. "Can I go now?" she asks, glancing down at her arm and Santana is surprised to realise that she is holding on to the other girl.

"Yeah," Santana whispers, dropping Mack's arm and leaning heavily against the frame of the door. What the fuck just happened? Brittany saw them? She watched? No, no there has to be more to it. There has to be. Mack said something about Brittany being shocked. Yeah, that must be it. People freeze when something surprises them, right? Her chest feels tight and she breathes quickly and heavily, her palm resting stiffly on her stomach.

"Santana? Are you okay?" Quinn's voice sounds distant, but Santana can feel the woman's hand on her shoulder. "You're okay, honey, just breathe," Quinn murmurs soothingly, rubbing her back. Try as she might, Santana can't calm down, all she can think about is what will happen when she goes home. Home..where Brittany is.

_**To be continued... Please review.**_


	14. Chapter 14

_**I do not own Glee or any of the original characters, It all belongs to RIB and Fox. Any characters you don't recognise are my own creations.**_

_**Yeah, I'm back. Thanks for all of the support, it really does mean a lot and I appreciate it so much. It doesn't seem like the harassment is going to stop anytime soon so I'm doing my best to ignore it and continue writing. I will do my best to update as much as possible. **_

_**And, no, I wasn't away from my accounts to punish anyone, I really just needed a break.**_

_**R&R please.**_

Chapter 14

Santana is silent as Quinn leads her out to the parking lot of Mckinley, Quinn taking a hold of her hand and Santana gripping to it for dear life. She doesn't want to do this. She doesn't want to go home. Why would Brittany have watched? It's weird. Santana internally scolds herself, it's no weirder than what she has been doing since she first came to stay with Brittany and Quinn. Pining over your adopted mother isn't exactly normal, especially when she's beginning to see Brittany's wife as her parent. She's shaken from her thoughts when Quinn opens the front passenger door for her. Santana climbs into the car, shooting Quinn a strained smile that she knows Quinn can see straight through. There's just something about Quinn's hazel gaze, it's as though she's piercing through her soul and reading her emotions even better than Santana can. Quinn closes the door for her and Santana automatically slips her seat belt into place without even realising she is doing so. Numb. That's how she feels. There's no other way she can describe it. All she can think about is Brittany. What the hell does she say? What the hell does she do?

"I have to stop off and pick Brittany up from work, we'll be home soon and then you can just relax," Quinn murmurs as she slides into the driver's seat. "I know panic attacks can be exhausting," she adds softly, reaching over to gently squeeze Santana's knee reassuringly. "I used to have them as a child," Quinn explains when she notices Santana's confused expression, "nightmares," she adds.

"I don't get them very much," Santana mumbles. "I usually just get mad and, well, you've seen what that's like. I just wish I had some control over my emotions," she whispers. Quinn smiles sadly, nodding and patting her thigh.

"You'll learn to, and we'll help," Quinn promises her. "You don't need to do anything alone anymore, and you don't have to focus your energy on looking after Rachel all the time anymore. We'll do that, we'll look after both of you," Quinn states quietly.

"Yeah, well, Rachel hates me now so I don't think she'd even let me look after her," Santana mutters bitterly.

"She doesn't hate you, you know that. She's a lot younger than you and I think it's all just really confusing for her," Quinn murmurs. "She's so afraid of losing you, and she is convinced that will happen, that she's trying to do it on her own terms," she explains. "I think she's putting herself through pain now, so that she doesn't have to go through it later. What she doesn't realise is that she's hurting you, too."

"I don't care about me feeling hurt," Santana sighs, "I only care about Rachel feeling that way."

"And that's the problem," Quinn says gently. "You don't care about yourself, that's what scares her the most. It's what scares us all the most. That's why she thinks she'll lose you."

"She said that I'd hate her, that I'd resent her." Santana shakes her head and looks down at her hands that idly lay in her lap.

"It's a valid concern. You're not dealing with things, it'll just keep building and building, and eating you alive. It could destroy you," Quinn says quietly. "Do you feel a little better than you did in the nurse's office?" Santana nods and surreptitiously wipes a tear from the corner of her eye, Quinn allowing the girl to think she hadn't noticed. She starts the car and slowly pulls out of the parking space, noticing a girl watching them from a few cars away. Mack. Sighing, Quinn chooses to ignore her and glides the car out of the parking lot.

0-00-0

Santana sighs when she hears Brittany calling her down for dinner. Three hours. That's how long she had managed to ignore Brittany, and now she has to go and sit at the same table as her. Granted, Rachel and Quinn will be there as well but still, she's not exactly thrilled about having to be around Brittany right now. She's still trying to process what Mack had told her. Groaning softly, Santana pushes herself off her bed and dumps her homework onto the desk before padding across the room. She jerks in surprise when she opens her bedroom door to find Rachel standing on the other side, the younger girl smiling timidly.

"Sorry, I was just about to knock," Rachel murmurs.

"You're speaking to me now?" Santana asks, thought not unkindly. Rachel sighs softly and gazes up at her big sister, worrying her lip with her teeth.

"I just..I really miss you," Rachel whispers, "I know it's my fault that we haven't hung out, or spoken, but I miss you."

"It's not your fault, Rach," Santana reassures her. She reaches forward and pulls Rachel close to her, hugging her tightly.

"Yes it is," Rachel insists. "You don't need to protect me from my own mistakes."

"You're my baby sister, I'll protect you from everything," Santana replies firmly, squeezing her sister comfortingly.

"Even if it means putting yourself at risk?" Santana pulls back, holding onto Rachel's shoulders and studying her face. "That's what you did in the past. I know you did. Can we just...I don't want to talk about everything just yet, is that okay?"

"Of course it is, baby girl," Santana nods, leaning forward and leaving a soft kiss on Rachel's forehead. "We don't need to talk until you're ready," she assures her.

"We're okay?" Rachel quietly questions, "we can hang out again?"

"Yeah, we can," Santana nods, "and as soon as you want to talk, just let me know."

"Okay. I love you, San."

"I love you, too. Go on downstairs. Tell Quinn I'll be there as soon as I wash up, okay?" Santana smiles softly at her baby sister, watching her as she heads back downstairs. At least one thing in her life is going okay. Sighing, she trudges into the bathroom and locks the door behind her. She washes her hands at the sink and then splashes water on her place, gazing into the mirror as droplets of water drip from her eyelashes and the tip of her nose. This isn't how this was supposed to go. When Quinn and Brittany wanted to adopt them, she agreed for Rachel's sake. It's not like she had anything against either of them, she just didn't want to be mothered. Now, she not only wants it but she realises she needs it. From Quinn, anyway. Santana wishes she could feel the same way about Brittany. She's not supposed to be in love with her adopted parent. But she is. As much as she fights it...she is. She grabs the towel and dries her face before heading downstairs, purposely avoiding looking in Brittany's direction.

"How are you feeling?" Quinn asks her kindly as she slides into the seat next to her, her hazel eyes filled with care and concern. Santana shrugs lightly. It's the only honest answer she can give. She has no idea what she feels. "Please eat something, okay?" Santana feels a surge of guilt gnaw at her gut as she nods. Quinn smiles and gently squeezes her arm. Santana feels like she is betraying Quinn by having these feelings for Brittany, even if she has no plans to act on it.

"We're gonna keep you home from school tomorrow," Brittany states softly. "We'd like you to talk to a doctor again. They may be able to help you out with your panic attacks," she explains. Santana nods stiffly, staring down at her food and avoiding Brittany's gaze. She doesn't argue, she's too tired. Dinner seems to drag on for hours, when in reality they are only at the table for thirty minutes. Santana could swear she felt Brittany watching her a couple of times but, still, she doesn't dare look back at her. She's scared of what she might see in those blue eyes that she finds so stunning and mesmorising.

"Sweetie, are you done?" Quinn's voice drags Santana out of her thoughts and she looks up with a nod.

"Yeah," she murmurs.

"You haven't eaten very much," Quinn gently chastises, watching Santana in concern.

"I'll finish it later," Santana shrugs, "I'm just not very hungry right now." Quinn nods, the look on her face telling Santana that she will make sure she does. "I'll go put it in the oven," she adds, quickly rising from the table and almost running from the room.

"She's being weird," Rachel states softly, her brow furrowing as she gazes at Quinn as though the woman holds the answer.

"She's had a rough day, honey, that's all," Quinn replies reassuringly, a warm smile on her lips. Even if she doesn't show it she, too, is worried about Santana. "Why don't you go get ready for ballet class, we have to leave soon and we don't want to be late," Quinn says, with yet another reassuring smile. She watches as Rachel leaves the room and waits until she is sure that the girl is out of earshot before turning to face Brittany, "Will you try and talk to her while we're out?"

"I'll try," Brittany nods. "It doesn't seem like she wants to talk much, though."

"I know," Quinn sighs, "I just...you didn't see her today, Britt. It was terrifying. She looked so scared and helpless. These panic attacks are really messing with her, and I don't like seeing her suffer so much."

"Was it really that bad?" Brittany questions, surprised.

"Yeah, it was awful. I mean, she even held my hand when we were walking to the car and I could feel how much she was shaking," Quinn murmurs sadly, glancing towards the kitchen to ensure that Santana isn't within earshot. "I just wish she'd talk to us, I'm scared for her."

"Well, I..." Brittany trails off when Santana walks back into the dining room, shooting her wife a look that tells her they'll continue this later. "Hey, you okay?"

"I'm fine," Santana mutters, still refusing to look at Brittany and completely missing the hurt expression on her features. "I'm just gonna go read or something."

"Actually, before you do..can you do the washing up?" Quinn requests, "It's your night to do them but I'm sure Brittany would be willing to help you with them," she adds with a wink. Santana nods. "I'm gonna stay with Rachel since it's her first ballet lesson, but we won't be home late. Maybe we could all watch a movie later? Just relax and have some family time?" Santana is sure she can hear a hint of desperation in Quinn's voice and she forces herself to nod again, even if the idea of being in such close proximity to Brittany is less than appealing to her.

0-00-0

Santana stares down at the soapy water as she scrubs a pan, the same pan she had been scrubbing for the last ten minutes. It's clean, but she doesn't notice. Brittany is standing close by...too close, and her whole body can feel her presence. She can smell her perfume and her shampoo, and it pains her. Santana knows Brittany is watching her, she can feel that piercing gaze on the side of her face. All she wants to do is run away. To lock herself in the bathroom and never come out. Mack's earlier words echo in her mind, causing tears to sting the corner of her eyes. She hates this...hates Brittany. No, she loves Brittany, but she hates that she loves her.

"I think it's clean," Brittany murmurs, reaching out and placing her hand on Santana's arm to still her movements. Santana stiffens, her chest tightening as she thrusts the pan into Brittany's hands without taking her gaze away from the sink. Grabbing another dirty dish, Santana plunges it into the water, not caring that she splashes her shirt with the soapy water. Brittany frowns, studying the teenager while she dries the pan, wishing she knew what was going on inside her head. "Santana?"

"What?!" If Brittany is surprised by the hostility in Santana's voice, she doesn't show it.

"I was just gonna ask if you were okay," Brittany states evenly.

"No! I'm not fucking okay," Santana snaps, dropping the plate into the water and spinning around to face Brittany with fire in her eyes. Water drips from her hands and onto the floor, but neither of them care, both of them just staring at each other. "But you already know that because every fucking five seconds! Seriously, you know I'm not okay so stop asking me all the damn time!" They lock eyes, neither of them speaking for a few long seconds before Santana suddenly drops her gaze to the floor, her chest heaving with angry, laboured breaths.

"You cannot speak to me like that," Brittany eventually states, her tone scolding and her gaze stern. "I know you're going through some stuff right now, but I'm your guardian...your parent, you do not get to speak to me, or curse at me, like that. Brittany watches Santana carefully, noticing an emotion that she can't quite place flash across her face. "You're mad at me," she murmurs after a moment, "and I don't know why. You've been mad at me before, but you've been mad with Quinn as well. This time it's just me," Brittany sadly states, confusion all over her face. Santana sighs heavily, her shoulders slumping, and she lifts her head to look back at Brittany.

"I spoke to Mack today..."

"Oh, now I get it...that's where the attitude has come from," Brittany interrupts, "You know, I don't care how she acts towards adults...you don't have to copy her."

"She told me you watched!"

"What?" Brittany falters, gaping at Santana and trying to ignore that surge of panic that shoots through her entire body.

"Mack told me that you were standing in the doorway while we were...you know...sleeping together, and that it took you a while to say anything," Santana spits out, her nostrils flaring. She wishes so desperately that she could tell Brittany that it's okay, that she didn't mind but these feelings are confusing her...suffocating her.

"I...I was..I didn't expect to find you like that, I was shocked. I was just...there. I wasn't watching...I just kinda froze," Brittany stutters, doing her upmost to not freak out. "It's not something I expect to see when I walk in your room. I wasn't watching," she repeats. "You know, you still should not have spoken to me like that, that was not acceptable. So, I think you should finish up in here and then go get ready for bed...an early night would help you," Brittany states, her voice rushed and higher in pitch than usual. "I have to make a phonecall, I would like you to be finished up in here by the time I'm done," she adds, before almost sprinting from the kitchen. Her breathing is heavy and panicked as she makes her way down to the basement, and she slumps down on the floor, leaning against the mirror. "Fuck..." Brittany breathes out, cursing herself. "Stop it," she harshly whispers to herself. "Stop." Santana is her adopted daughter. Her fucking wife is enamoured with them, and they her. She can't be think about Santana like _that._ No. No, she just can't. "C'mon Brittany, you're better than this," she mutters again, tipping her head back against the mirror with a dull thud. No. This can't continue. She thought she had been hiding it well. Nobody seemed to notice how she was feeling. "You are _not_ attracted to her," Brittany states aggressively, completely unaware that Santana is standing on the other side of the basement door.

_**To be continued...please review.**_


	15. Chapter 15

_**I do not own Glee or any of the original characters, It all belongs to RIB and Fox. Any characters you don't recognise are my own creations.**_

_**I am so thrilled with the feedback for the last chapter, you guys really made my week!**_

_**I promise I'm doing my best to get back to weekly updates but there is still a lot going on. I will, however, promise that there will definitely be at least one new chapter a fortnight. I hope you guys understand.**_

_**R&R please.**_

Chapter 15

Brittany sighs heavily as she scrubs her face with her hands and pushes herself away from the mirror. Everything just feels so fucked up. She knows she should go back upstairs, she needs to be able to listen for Santana. The basement door is too thick for her to hear anything else that goes on in the house, and she really doesn't want to go back upstairs later just to find that Santana is gone again. Quinn would be pretty pissed with her if that happened. Hell, she'd be pissed with herself if that happened. She jerks in surprise when the basement door swings open, gazing up at Santana with wide eyes. She silently thanks deities, that she's not really sure exist, that the basement door is pretty much soundproof. Santana is quiet as she walks down the steps, hating herself for overreacting and upsetting Brittany.

"I thought I told you to go get ready for bed," Brittany murmurs, her voice sounding much weaker than she'd like it to. She doubts that Santana heard her panicked rambling, but she's still nervous as hell; it was a close call.

"I'm going to," Santana nods, "I just wanted to apologise first." If Brittany is surprised by this, she doesn't show it. She merely waits silently for Santana to continue. "I'm sorry for overreacting like I did, and for speaking to you like that, of course you were shocked when you caught me in my bedroom. It wasn't fair of me to try and turn it on you when I was in the wrong, so, I'm sorry."

"That's very mature of you," Brittany states sincerely, a small, proud smile playing on her lips. "I appreciate it, and I accept your apology." She notices just how relieved Santana looks, and it surprises her. She had thought that Santana didn't case about her all that much, well, at least not as much as she seems to care about Quinn.

"Thanks," Santana murmurs. "Goodnight then," she adds quietly, turning and heading back upstairs.

"Santana?" The teenager stops and turns to face Brittany. "Why don't you go make sure you've finished whatever homework you have. I'll call you down when Quinn and Rachel get home and we'll watch a movie." Brittany smirks lightly at the look of surprise on Santana's face. "See what happens when you make an effort?" Santana smiles at her and lightly rolls her eyes. "Go on...homework." Brittany watches as Santana heads back upstairs, forcing herself to only stare at the back of her head. She feels sick. Santana is just a teenager. An innocent teenager who is under her and Quinn's care. Her adopted daughter.

"Brittany?" She looks up at Santana as the teenager pokes her head inside the door. "Thanks for...you know...letting me stay up."

"Not a problem. Just work on that attitude, alright?" Santana nods and disappears again, closing the door behind her. Brittany sighs softly. This is wrong. It's just wrong. So, so wrong. Brittany shakes her head and turns her music on, allowing the beat to infiltrate her. Dancing helps. It's her escape. Although, there's only so much dancing she can do. She can't spend every moment, of every day, escaping. Especially with her birthday coming up. Her family will be here, Quinn's family will be here. Yeah, she's turning thirty and she has feelings for a sixteen year old girl. Turning the music up, Brittany forces the thoughts out of her mind and focuses only on dancing. If she doesn't think about it, it will go away. Right?

0-00-0

Quinn sips on her coffee while leaning against the kitchen counter, silently listening as Rachel does what she is asked and wakes Santana and Brittany up. Friday mornings are usually pretty relaxed and quiet as they stumble off to school and work, relieved that it's almost the weekend. But not today. Today they all have to be awake, showered, and dressed before six so that they can get on the road quickly. As usual, the plans for Brittany's birthday have been finalised at last minute and for the last two days they've been preparing for a camping trip with several family members. Quinn has to admit, ten years ago, the thought of her mother camping would have made her fall over laughing. Now, thanks to the influences of Brittany's family, and her second husband, Judy Fabray now loves the outdoors. In fact, ever since she and Quinn's father had divorced, Judy seems to enjoy most things in life.

"Morning," Santana grumbles as she sleepily shuffles into the kitchen, her hair a complete mess and her eyes still half closed.

"Good morning," Quinn smiles, sliding a mug of coffee along the counter for Santana to take. "How did you sleep?"

"Fine," Santana murmurs. "Not long enough, though."

"Yeah, waking up at five in the morning to travel isn't my favourite thing about camping," Quinn nods in agreement. She throws her arm and around Santana's shoulders and smiles softly when the teenager lays her head on her shoulder. Even though it's now much more frequent, Quinn adores how Santana allows these shows of affection, allows her to be maternal towards her. "Are you sure you're definitely okay with this?" Quinn quietly questions. "Everyone wants to meet you guys but they'd understand if you felt like it would be too much," she adds gently.

"You'd let me stay here on my own?" Santana asks, not quite believing it.

"No, definitely not," Quinn automatically responds. "No, I'd stay with you. I know you've briefly met our parents but I wouldn't blame you if you didn't want to spend a whole weekend with them yet. Especially considering there's nowhere to escape to."

"I'll be fine," Santana murmurs. She's not fine. Not at all, nor does she think she will be, but there is no way that she's asking Quinn to miss this weekend. Santana knows she is looking forward to it, and she does't want her to stuck at home because Santana doesn't feel like hanging out with their family. She feels guilty enough about everything else, Santana doesn't want to feel guilty about this, too. "It'll be fun," she adds, pulling out of Quinn's one armed embrace and placing her coffee cup in the sink. "I better go shower."

"Good idea," Quinn nods. "You won't get another chance to shower until Sunday night." Quinn laughs at the look of sheer disgust that flashes across Santana's face. "There's always the lake, it's getting a lot warmer outside recently so if you're desperate you can wash in there," she smirks.

"You're enjoying this too much," Santana grumbles good naturedly as she walks out of the room. She heads upstairs and into her bedroom, pausing when she notices Rachel sitting on the edge of her bed. Santana rolls her eyes as she realises that Rachel had made her bed for her. "Everything okay?" Santana asks, concerned that Rachel is in here rather than going over her checklist for the sixth time. She didn't make fun of her, though, they've never been camping before and Rachel is excited about it. Santana has no intentions of ruining it for her.

"Uh huh," Rachel nods. "I just wanted to see if you were alright," Rachel shrugs. "You looked worried when Quinn and Brittany told you about the trip." Santana sighs softly. Rachel is worried about her. She's ten years old, it should be Santana worrying about, and looking out for, her.

"You don't need to worry about me, Rach," Santana states softly. "I'm fine." Rachel studies her and she doesn't look at all convinced. Santana knows why she is worried, she's had a lot of panic attacks lately..much more than usual. "Look, we're gonna have a great time, babe. Trust me, I'm fine." Rachel nods and offers a tight smile, she's still not completely convinced, before heading back out of her big sister's bedroom. Santana sighs again as she closes the door and starts to strip off the clothes she had worn to bed. She needs to pull herself together. Once people realise that something is really bothering her, they'll want to know what it is, and it's not as if she can tell someone about this. Grabbing a towel from her closet, she wraps it around her and heads back out of her bedroom, freezing as Brittany comes out of the bathroom. Santana immediately focuses on a spot on the wall, Brittany's just out of the shower and her body is wrapped in a towel. She doesn't want to torture herself by looking at those long, lean legs.

"Oh. Morning, San. There's something wrong with the shower in mine and Quinn's bathroom, hope you don't mind," Brittany tells her in a voice that is just far too cheerful for five in the morning.

"It's your house," Santana shrugs, feeling extremely self conscious as she remembers that she, too, is only in a towel. Suddenly, Santana wishes that the towel were larger. She feels vulnerable...exposed.

"It's your house, too," Brittany replies softly. "Are you excited about the camping trip?"

"Yeah, I guess," Santana murmurs. "I haven't been camping before so I don't really know if it's my thing or not," she shrugs. "But I'm looking forward to your birthday tomorrrow and just hanging out with everyone," Santana adds quickly, causing Brittany to smile. Has it really come to this? Lying just to make Brittany smile. She chews on her bottom lip, feeling her face start to heat up just from the pleasant attention she is receiving from Brittany. "I better go shower," Santana eventually mumbles, gesturing weakly towards the bathroom door.

"Yeah, you'd better. Don't take too long, or Quinn will come in there and drag you out," Brittany teases. "She likes to keep to a strict schedule on camping weekends," she adds with a small laugh. Santana smiles weakly, watching as Brittany walks along to her bedroom and instantly regretting it. She needs to stop this. She can't stare at Brittany's ass like that. She just can't. "I wasn't kidding, you need to be quick!" Brittany calls from her bedroom.

"I'm going," Santana calls back, instantly rushing into the bathroom and closing the door. She turns the water on, and drops her towel, before stepping under the hot spray. Santana spots a different kind of shampoo sitting in the corner of the shower and realises it must be Brittany's. Brittany had been in here...naked. No. She shakes her head. She needs to stop thinking like this. It's not right. Santana reaches for her shampoo, but stops. She eyes the other bottle for a moment before reaching for that and squeezing a dollop into her hand. The scent of strawberry and kiwi fills her nostrils as she rubs it into her hair, the scent that she always catches when she's around Brittany. She knows she shouldn't. She's just torturing herself by doing this. Wait..what if Brittany notices she used her shampoo. What if she smelled it? What if Quinn did. Santana does the only thing she can think of and grabs her own shampoo, popping open the cap, and pours it down the drain. Santana watches as the shampoo swirls around the drain, swishing it with her foot so that it bubbles and drains quicker. Fuck, what is she doing? This is pathetic. Wasting her own shampoo just so she can say she had no choice but to use Brittany's. The more she thinks about it, the more ridiculous it sounds. Even if they did notice she used Brittany's shampoo, which is unlikely, they probably wouldn't even care.

"Santana! You need to be quick!" Santana groans when she hears Rachel's voice. "Quinn wants to leave in twenty minutes! Santana?"

"Yeah, alright! I'll be out in a second," Santana yells back, turning off the water and sighing. This weekend already sucks.

0-00-0

Brittany holds back a groan as she steps outside, her arms loaded with camping equipment, and spots Rachel sitting in the front passenger seat of their car. Rachel, for some reason, loves to sit in the front and they had been telling her no for a while now. Eventually, though, she and Quinn had given in and bought her a booster seat that allowed someone of her height to sit up front. Brittany really doesn't want to sit in the back with Santana, but she also really doesn't want to ask Rachel to move. The whole reason they got the booster seat was because Brittany didn't mind sitting in the back, and they saw no reason to say no to Rachel when she asked them to buy it for her.

"She asked, I said yes," Quinn tells Brittany as she follows her wife out of the house, opening the trunk for both of them to dump equipment into. "I didn't think you'd mind."

"I don't," Brittany forces a smile and leans forward to kiss Quinn gently on the lips. "Besides, it's easier to sleep in the back and I know our family are going to exhaust us so I need as much rest as I can get," she jokes.

"Oh please, you are the one that initiates all of the activities," Quinn retorts, rolling her hazel eyes and smiling at her wife. "Get in the car, babe, I'll go hurry Santana up. Were we this slow when we were teenagers?"

"I don't remember you ever being slow," Brittany states as Quinn walks back up the driveway, Quinn turning back and grinning when she catches Brittany staring at her ass.

"Get in the car," Quinn calls, shaking her head in amusement as she steps into the house. She finds Santana in the living room, the teenager hauling her backpack onto her shoulders with a jaw cracking yawn. Quinn steps forward to help her when Santana struggles to lift the other bag that lays at her feet. "I got it, honey," Quinn smiles, easily lifting the bag. She leads Santana out to the car, gesturing for the girl to get into the car and taking her backpack from her.

"Oh..hey," Santana murmurs weakly when she realises it's not Rachel in the back, but Brittany. Brittany smiles at her, hoping that Santana doesn't realise that the smile is forced. She feels bad already, but she'd feel downright awful if she made Santana think she didn't want to be around her. She does want to be around her, but her thoughts aren't as innocent as she wants them to be.

"Does Jillian know you're going camping?" Rachel turns around in her seat to gaze at her older sister curiously, referring to Santana's therapist.

"Yeah," Santana nods.

"I bet she thinks it'll be good for you," Rachel notes with an air of confidence. "Sometimes it's good to get away, and relax, rather than try and deal with everything all at once," she explains, sounding older than she actually is.

"Rach, I don't...I don't have problems, I just struggle," Santana murmurs, feeling Brittany's gaze boring into the side of her head and purposely avoiding looking back at her. "Can we not talk about it please?" Santana asks pleadingly as Quinn slides into the driver's seat.

"Okay," Rachel shrugs. She doesn't look at all phased about Santana turning down her, not so subtle, request to talk about things. Santana notices that she doesn't look very surprised. She probably isn't. Santana glances at Brittany, their eyes meeting briefly as the car rolls out of the driveway. Santana looks away first, her chest feeling tight as she wills herself not to think about those piercing, stunning, blue eyes. Both of them are completely unaware that the other feels exactly the same, that they both are fighting against their emotions, both while awake and in their dreams. Santana sighs and allows her head to fall back against the head rest, this weekend is_ really_ going to suck.

_**I know this chapter isn't what you were expecting, but I will say that there is a reason that they don't know about each others' feelings yet. That will become clear soon.**_

_**This chapter is kind of a set up for the camping trip, and a LOT will go down during the trip. **_

_**To be continued...Please review.**_


	16. Chapter 16

_**I do not own Glee or any of the original characters, It all belongs to RIB and Fox. Any characters you don't recognise are my own creations.**_

_**Thank you so much for all of your reviews for the last chapter. Remember, this is a long story, give it time. I have the chapters planned out, things will happen in the time that I would like them to happen. Thank you.**_

_**R&R please.**_

Chapter 16

_She wakes up in a bedroom she doesn't recognise, and immediately feels weird. She can't think of how to describe just how she feels. Everything just feels weird. There's warning bells sounding in the back of her mind, and the hair on the back of her neck stands erect. Santana looks around at the bare, white walls and frowns. She can hear voices in another room, voices that she is sure she recognizes. Pushing herself up to a sitting position, Santana lets out a pained hiss. Her back and bottom aches from the movement, and she forces herself to stand up just to lessen the pressure. A full length mirror stands in the corner of the room, next to a closet and empty desk. She walks across the room, coming to a stop in front of the mirror. She looks like crap. Her features look drawn and exhausted, her eyes sunken with dark circles underneath them. She turns around and tugs her worn sweatpants and underwear down a little bit, craning her neck to check her bottom in the mirror._

_"What the fuck?" she breathes out, her brow furrowing as she examines the red welts that marks her golden skin. No. Brittany and Quinn wouldn't do this to her. There's just no way. The voices outside of the room get closer and she pulls her underwear and sweatpants back into place, wincing as the material rubs against her sore flesh. The door to the bedroom door opens, and she feels her heart and stomach sink as she stares back at the man in the doorway. No way. No. She can't be back here. Her chest tightens as she stares at him. His belt dangles from his hand and he glares at her menacingly._

_"You didn't even start the laundry!" he booms out, his voice echoing in the small bedroom. Santana jerks backwards, putting more space between them, acidic tears burning the corner of her eyes when he closes the gap between them and stares down at her. His breath smells putrid, a mixture of stale smoke and alcohol. "Don't think we're gonna feel sorry for you just 'cause those dykes sent you back," he hisses. "Things are gonna be the same as before you left." Santana's brow furrows as she stares up at him, feeling more and more intimidated by the second. Was he always this big? Rachel must be terrified. Wait...Rachel!_

_"Where's Rachel? Did you lock her in the basement? Please let her out, she hates it down there!" Santana desperately pleads. Her blood runs cold when he laughs, her features crumpling._

_"She's at home. She's with the dykes. That's what happens when you try to screw your adopted mommy," he tells her scathingly. "They didn't want you anymore, they didn't want a little slut like you."_

_"That's not true," Santana whispers, a solitary tear leaking from her eye and running down her cheek._

_"Of course it is. Nobody wants you, Santana. You're a useless little cunt, hell, you can't even do something simple like the laundry. Now, enough of your whining. Over the bed," he orders, brandishing the belt in her face tauntingly before pushing her over the bed. The air rushes from her stomach as she lands heavily, and she squeezes her eyes tightly closed, waiting for the first strike of the belt._

Brittany frowns as Santana stirs against her. The teenager had fallen asleep a little while ago and, since then, her head had lolled onto Brittany's shoulder. Santana had been whimpering for the last few minutes, and Brittany is debating with herself about whether or not to wake her up. She decides not to. As hard as it is for her to have Santana pressed so closely to her, Brittany can't bring herself to do it. Santana had looked so tired lately, she'd feel awful if she disturbed her. She meets Quinn's gaze in the rear view mirror, immediately knowing that Quinn had heard Santana's whimpers and is worried. Brittany watches as her wife chews on her bottom lip, glancing at Rachel who is asleep in the front passenger seat, and contemplating what to do.

"She's obviously having a nightmare," Quinn finally murmurs. "She needs to rest, but nightmares give her panic attacks. Wake her up." Brittany nods, but hesitates. A fleeting thought passes through her mind, if Santana has a panic attack, she would find comfort in her arms. She immediately feels guilty. That's terrible. She can't hope that Santana has a panic attack just so she can hold her. That's an awful thing to think. Brittany gently shakes Santana's shoulder, the teenager instantly jerking awake.

"No! Don't!" Santana panics, confused in her sleepy haze. Brittany reaches out to her and tries to not be hurt, and failing, when Santana recoils.

"Hey, hey, you're okay," Brittany tells her softly. "It was just a dream. I'm not going to hurt you. I promise." Santana swallows thickly, nodding as she scoots back to her side of the car, leaning against the window and putting as much space between herself and Brittany as is physically possible.

"Sorry," Santana mutters.

"Do you need me to stop?" Quinn asks her, only receiving a shake of the head in response. Santana silently stares out of the window, blinking back the tears that burn in her eyes. She knows it was just a dream, but it could so easily become her reality. Quinn and Brittany may have told her time and time again that they would never send her away, that they are her family, and this is her home, but they don't know how she feels. If they knew she was falling deeply in love with Brittany, they'd send her back. She just knows it. Rachel would hate her. Hell, Santana hates herself. Her feelings towards Brittany are risking everything for them. The first loving home they've had since their parents died, the first time they're actually wanted, and she's falling in love with one of the women that adopted them.

"We'll be there soon," Brittany murmurs, reaching out and gently patting Santana's arm, telling herself that it's for Santana's benefit when it's really for hers. Santana snatches her arm away and wraps her arms around herself, her gaze still fixed on the passing fields and trees. Brittany wishes it wouldn't hurt so much that Santana doesn't want to be touched by her. At the very, very back of her mind, there is a rational voice telling her that it's nothing personal, but it feels like a lie. It feels personal. It feels like she hates her, that Santana doesn't want to be around her at all. Why is she okay with Quinn, but not with her?

0-00-0

It takes every ounce of inner strength that Quinn has in her body to not laugh at Santana. Santana had waved her off when she had offered to help her with her tent, but it's perfectly clear that Santana has no idea what she is doing and, to be honest, it's kind of adorable. Quinn glances at Brittany as she and Rachel put the bigger tent up, glad to see that it's going smoothly. Dumping the wood she had collected for the fire, Quinn makes her way over to Santana. She doesn't miss the wary looks from the members of their families, they had all tried to help the teenager in the last hour; each offer had been rebuffed. She stops when Brittany suddenly appears at her side, having just finished with their tent, and touches her shoulder.

"Rachel is looking for your ipod, she says you have better taste than I do," Brittany tells her with a roll of her blue eyes. "Can you get it for her?" she asks, noticing that Quinn shoots a worried glance in Santana's direction. "It's alright, I got it, I'll help her." Quinn nods, placing a sweet kiss to her wife's lips and heading back in the other direction. Brittany sighs. She knows this is a bad idea. She should be avoiding spending time on her own with Santana until these ridiculous feelings subside, but she can't help it; she wants to be around her. Santana looks up as the woman approaches her, rolling her dark eyes and frowning when she realises that yet another person doesn't think she can do it. Brittany gently pulls Santana away from the tent, struggling to ignore how it hurts to even touch her, and grabs the poles from the ground.

"I can do it," Santana stubbornly insists, scowling at Brittany as she snatches the poles from her.

"I don't doubt that, Santana, but it's your first time doing it and it will be easier if I help," Brittany replies gently, choosing to ignore the attitude wafting from the teenager. "Every other tent is either up, or nearly up, honey. If I help you this time then you'll be able to do it yourself next time."

"Whatever," Santana grumbles, thrusting the poles back into Brittany's hands and taking a couple of large steps away from her. Brittany frowns. She knows she can't be imagining things, Santana is _definitely_ avoiding her, but why? It's not like Santana could know about her inappropriate feelings towards her. Brittany's breath hitches. What if she does? Is she being that obvious. No, she can't know. There's no way. Taking a calming breath, Brittany forces herself to relax and stop panicking. Santana has trust issues, she had an awful past. She had to live through things that no child...no human should be put through. That's all it is. She needs to relax, otherwise people will be able to work out that there's a problem.

"Uh..Brittany, are you okay?"

"I'm fine!" Brittany instantly regrets snapping at Santana. It's not her fault that one of the women trusted to look after her has feelings for her. Santana shouldn't have to suffer because of Brittany's feelings. "Sorry, I just have a headache," Brittany lies.

"No big deal," Santana shrugs.

"I shouldn't have snapped at you like that and I.."

"I do it to you all the time," Santana interrupts. "No big deal," she repeats, her eyes narrowing as something catches her eyes.

"That's not the point, I sh..."

"The tent is ripped," Santana states, interrupting Brittany again. "Right there," she kneels down and points to the damaged part of the tent. Brittany kneels down and studies the tent, groaning at the size of the rip. How had Quinn missed that when she checked the tents yesterday? "Did I do that?" Santana asks, nerves evident in her tone and on her features.

"No. Don't worry, it's probably from the last time we used it," Brittany reassures her. "I don't think anyone else has a spare tent with them, you and Rach will have to crash with us," Brittany murmurs, straightening back up and beckoning for Quinn to come join them. "I know you like your space, but.."

"No, it's fine," Santana shrugs. "It's your birthday weekend, I can sleep in a tent with other people without freaking out."

"What's up?" Quinn questions as she walks over to them, stopping beside Brittany and shooting Santana a smile.

"We damaged the tent the last time we used it," Brittany sighs. "I thought you checked them yesterday."

"I did," Quinn retorts, a flash of irritation crossing her pretty features at the accusation in Brittany's voice. "Maybe it got caught on a branch or something when we brought it to the clearing." Quinn is pretty sure that it couldn't have been Santana, she had been watching her pretty closely while the teenager had been struggling with it. "No big deal, we'll replace it once we're home. The girls can sleep with us." Brittany internally panics at the thought of being in such a confined space with Santana. Sure, she had come to the conclusion that they'd be sleeping with them herself, but thinking about it makes her feel extremely uncomfortable. Hopefully Quinn and Rachel will sleep between she and Santana as she's starting to lose the trust she has in herself.

"Where's Rachel?" Santana looks around wildly when she suddenly realizes her little sister is nowhere to be seen.

"She's at the pier with Bill, it's around the other side of the lake. He fishes there so that we don't disturb the fish that he's trying to catch if we go swimming," Quinn explains. "You want me to show you where it is?" she offers, knowing Santana likes to know where Rachel is. Santana nods, a tiny, grateful smile on her lips. "Brittany will get rid of this and put your stuff in our tent," Quinn states without even asking her wife, she's still a little irked about Brittany's accusing tone. Susan Pierce approaches them, wearing her usual, warm smile.

"I'll show Santana. Bill was too busy making a bet with Richard about who would catch more to take his flask so I'm going to take it to him," Susan tells them, smiling widely at Santana. Santana forces a polite smile to her face and nods. She's not exactly desperate to hang out with someone she hasn't met before, but it's Brittany's mom. She knows Susan had been looking forward to meet she and Rachel, and really wanted to get to know both of them. How can she say no to that? Besides, it's not like she'll be alone with her for long. Rachel is just a little distance away with Brittany's dad and Quinn's step-dad.

"Okay," Quinn smiles, "we'll see you soon." Quinn glances at Santana to ensure that the girl is comfortable, a proud smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she Santana nods and follows Susan.

"I've heard a lot about you, Santana. I'm so glad I finally get to spend some time with you," Susan sincerely tells her. "Britt and Quinn told me you're settling in really well."

"I like it there," Santana murmurs.

"And they love having you there...both of you," Susan smiles. "C'mon, I show you a short cut," she adds, leading Santana into the trees. "Don't tell them I showed you this because if you use it by yourself and get lost, I will deny all knowledge of it." Santana grins. She likes her. She's just like Brittany.

"Rachel really likes Bill," Santana softly states, her attempt at conversation making herself feel awkward. Luckily, it doesn't seem to make Susan feel awkward. If anything, the older woman seems thrilled that Santana is speaking to her.

"Yeah, she's really taken to him," Susan smiles. "He's an easy man to get along with, Brittany is very much like him. She has all of his good qualities." Santana nods, instantly feeling her stomach churn at the thought of talking about Brittany. "So, Santana, are there any boys in your life? Girls? A pretty girl like you must have everyone chasing after her." Santana's brow furrows, had Quinn or Brittany told Susan about Mack?

"Girls?" Santana asks, a voice almost a whisper.

"I never like to assume that it'd only be boys in a young woman's life," Susan explains kindly. "There's enough of that in the world, family don't need to do that to each other."

"Oh. No, there's nobody," Santana mumbles. She can feel Susan watching her, had she given herself away? Does Susan now think she's gay?

"Relax, honey. I'm just getting to know you. I always wanted grandchildren, and I'm just so glad I got them," Susan says. "Don't worry, I know you may not be at that stage yet but Brittany and Quinn see yourself and Rachel as their daughters, which means you're my grandchild even if you don't see them as your parents yet." Santana's breath hitches. Her heart aches inside of her chest. Brittany sees her as her daughter. Of all the beatings and emotional trauma she's been through in her short life, nothing has hurt as much as hearing that does.

0-00-0

Santana swipes at yet another mosquito as she trudges through the long grass in the trees. This is hell. Sheer hell. Peeing behind a tree and being eaten alive by bugs while actively avoiding Brittany is not her idea of fun. Camping sucks. She's desperate to just go to bed, but everyone is staying up until midnight to begin celebrating Brittany's birthday, so she promised herself that she would, too. Now, on top of everything, she's pretty sure that she is lost. Santana had laughed when Susan joked about getting lost while using the short cut, but she isn't laughing now. Nope, definitely not laughing. It's late at night and she's in the fucking woods in the middle of nowhere. This is how awful slasher movies start. She uses her cell phone as a torch, cursing as she stumbles over a branch. Checking the phone, she sees she still has no signal to call any of the others, not even Susan who had programmed her number into Santana's cell earlier in the evening. It's not really all that bad, she tells herself, she'd probably be enjoying herself a tiny amount if she wasn't lost. It's been about twenty minutes since she left the others, so they're probably starting to worry, maybe even looking for her.

"Crap," she mutters. Moving around after realizing she was lost was probably a bad idea. If they're looking for her she should probably stay in one place. Leaning against a tree, Santana sighs heavily. This is not how she imagined her weekend going. She feels ridiculous, even Rachel hadn't gotten lost and Rachel is an expert at getting lost. It's one of the reasons Santana likes to know where she is. Santana knows she should have just waited until someone else needed to go, rather than wandering off on her own. If she had done that she would be back around the fire by now. In the back of her mind, Santana knows that another option would have been to ask someone to go with her. Any one of them would have happily came with her. The silver lining in all of this is that she at least gets a break from everything. Judy, her husband, and the Pierces are all really nice but it's starting to feel like it's a little too much for her to handle just yet. It's hard enough trying to hide her feelings from Brittany, Quinn, and Rachel; it's even harder to do it around a larger group. There's always somebody giving her attention of some sort. Susan had been taking a lot of pictures of the four of them, which means Santana having to be really close to Brittany. It's too much. Still, there are easier ways to take a break than getting herself lost. For, what feels like, the hundredth time in recent weeks, she curses herself. Somebody better come and find her soon.

0-00-0

"She's been gone a while." Brittany looks down at Rachel, the child cuddling into Quinn's side and looking up at both adults with wide eyes. Brittany glances at Quinn and sighs softly as she stands up and brushes some of the ash from the fire from her jeans. "She said she was only going to, well, _go_."

"She's probably just taking a little break, honey," Quinn murmurs to her, tightening her arm and holding Rachel closer to her side. "Not everyone can get used to several new people at once."

"She went into the short cut that your mom told be about," Judy tells Brittany, Brittany immediately rolling her eyes and shooting her mother an incredulous look. "Susan showed her around so I'm sure she's just taking her time," Judy adds reassuringly.

"I'll go take a walk, just in case," Brittany murmurs to Quinn, pressing a soft kiss to her wife's lips. "She probably just needs some space, Rach. You worry too much," she states teasingly, kissing Rachel's forehead and grabbing one of the torches. "I'll be back soon."

"Okay," Rachel murmurs, she trusts Brittany. If Brittany tells her there is no reason to be worried, then it's true. Brittany sighs softly as she sets out towards the trees, heading towards the short cut that her mother had shown her when she was just a little girl. She isn't all that surprised that her mom had shown it to Santana, she's just glad Rachel didn't attempt to use it, too. It takes a few trips through it to remember the way, she herself had gotten a lost in here a few times as a child. Nowhere near as many times as her sister had, though. The further she gets into the trees, the more she regrets being the one to come and look for Santana. Her protectiveness of the teenager had kicked in before she could properly think it through. Alone with Santana in the woods. Santana. The teenager they adopted, the teenager she has strong, inappropriate feelings for. Yeah...bad idea.

"Act first, think later," Brittany grumbles. "Gotta work on fixing on that." She's a little worried, but mostly she's mad. Santana's sixteen, she should know better to stray off the beaten path in the dark. At least the woods aren't that big, it's not like a search party will be needed.

"Brittany?"

"Jesus!" Brittany holds her hand to her chest, feeling her heart hammering against her rib cage as she turns around to face Santana. The teenager is casually leaning against a tree and watching her with an amused smirk. "What the hell are you doing? Are you just hanging out?!"

"No, I got lost and I figured someone would be able to find me if I just stayed in one place," Santana shrugs, pushing herself away from the tree. "I wish you could have seen yourself. I swear, you jumped, like, two feet into the air when I said your name," she grins.

"Well you were pretty quiet," Brittany retorts. "Why the hell did you come this far into the trees? You can't just wander off!"

"I'm not a child, Brittany," Santana replies scathingly. "I am capable of peeing by myself."

"I'm not saying you can't, and I'm not trying to treat you like a child," Brittany sighs in frustration, her patience wearing thin after having to hike out into the woods to find her. "It's the first time you've been here, wandering too far into the woods in the dark is not a good idea," she snaps. "For someone of any age," she adds.

"It was an accident! It's not like I planned to get lost in the fucking woods!" Santana hisses, she regrets speaking to Brittany like that as soon as it leaves her mouth, but she'll be damned if she's going to apologise right now. She's too stubborn.

"Don't talk to me like that," Brittany scolds. "You never talk to Quinn like that. At least, not anymore, but whenever I call you out on something you just get really mad at me and escalates really quickly. Do you hate me, or something?" Santana's retort dies in her throat. Brittany thinks she hates her? She could never hate Brittany, even if it would be easier to hate her than love her. Loving her hurts like hell.

"I don't hate you."

"Then why do you act like this?" Brittany demands, throwing her hands up and groaning in frustration.

"Because I can't be around you!" As soon as the yelled words leave her mouth, Santana's jaw snaps shut. Fuck.

"You can't be around me?" Brittany's blue eyes are no longer filled with anger; only confusion, and curiosity.

"You make me mad," Santana quickly says. "You just frustrate me." It's a poor cover up but, by the look on Brittany's face, it's working. "I just...I don't want to be mad all the time, but you make me mad." She's hurting Brittany, she knows that, but it's better than what she could have said. It's better than telling her that she loves her so much that her heart aches when she's around her, knowing she can't be with her. She needs to get out of here, she needs to get back to the camp so that she can calm down and not continue thinking about how hot Brittany looks when she's mad, or how amazing she looks even in jeans and a thermal t'shirt. She pushes passed Brittany, walking in the direction she had seen Brittany come from.

"Don't walk away from me, Santana!" Brittany's stern tone causes Santana to freeze, but she doesn't turn around; she can't look at her. "We need to fix this," Brittany tells her, moving to stand beside Santana. "This isn't good for anyone. Are we going to end up in a screaming match every time I tell you not to do something, or ask you about something you've done? Are you going to yell at me if I asked you to make your bed?"

"You're being ridiculous," Santana scoffs. "It's no big deal."

"No big deal? Are you kidding me, Santana? You just told me that you get mad just being in my presence," Brittany states loudly. "How is that not a big deal?!" Santana sighs and shakes her head. She can't do this right now. She needs to keep her cool, and keep her secret safe. She can't go back to them, she can't go back to any of her old foster homes; especially not the last one. Santana attempts to brush passed Brittany again, Brittany immediately stepping in front of her and blocking her way. Santana tries to sidestep her. Her foot catches on a tree root and she falls forward, Brittany's arms instantly wrapping around her small frame and stopping her from hitting the ground. Santana's breath catches in her throat, she can feel Brittany's breath against her ear, can feel her heart beating against her. Brown eyes meet blue, neither of them moving a muscle. The shared gaze is intense. Mesmerizing. Intoxicating. Santana swears she can see tears well up in Brittany's eyes. Brittany leans forward, and Santana gasps. For one brief, glorious second Brittany's lips graze against her own. For that one second, the pain stops. "No!" Brittany pushes her away, Santana stumbling again but managing to find her balance before she falls.

"Brittany..."

"No, no. Fuck. No, I'm sorry," Brittany cries out, quickly stepping backwards and putting space between herself and Santana. "I didn't mean to do that!" Her breathing is heavy and her eyes are wild as she desperately looks around, her heart pounding as she prays that nobody had followed her out here, that nobody had seen that. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Santana." Brittany watches Santana, the teenager just staring back at her in a stunned silence, her features creased with despair. "I...I.. shit, Quinn...that won't happen again. I just got confused," she finishes weakly.

"I won't tell her," Santana whispers. "I won't tell Quinn." Santana's heart feels as though it's been ripped from her chest and ground into dust.

"Thank you," Brittany breathes. "I'm sorry," she repeats, panic setting deep into her soul. "I don't why I...it won't happen again. "It's dry out, I don't think it's gonna rain. I'll sleep in the ripped tent or something," Brittany mutters. "I'd understand you not wanting to sleep in the same tent as me tonight...I just, god I'm so sorry," she whimpers. We..uh..we need to get back," Brittany quickly states, turning on her heel and briskly walking back the way she came.

"I ripped the tent!" Santana's sudden exclamation stops Brittany in her tracks. "I did it on purpose." Brittany slowly turns around to look at the teenager, a myriad of emotions flashing in her eyes. Her watch beeps, announcing midnight, and the beginning of her birthday. Her thirtieth birthday. Brittany stares at the sixteen year old girl in front of her, studying her and waiting for an explanation. Does this mean what she thinks it means? Does she really want to know?

"We should get back to the others."

_**To be continued...reviews are greatly appreciated.**_


	17. Chapter 17

_**I do not own Glee or any of the original characters, It all belongs to RIB and Fox. Any characters you don't recognise are my own creations.**_

_**Thank you so much for all of the reviews for the last chapter, I really appreciate every one of you who took the time to do so!**_

_**Guest reviewers who curse at me will just be deleted. While I appreciate the passion, it doesn't make an update appear. Please be polite to me, this isn't my job...it's a hobby.**_

_**I plan to start updating this every Monday again, so long as guest reviewers stop attacking me.**_

_**R&R please.**_

Chapter 17

She hates this. All she wants to do is go home, hide in her bedroom and ignore her feelings, and the person who causes these feelings. Unfortunately, she can't. She miles away from home, in the middle of nowhere and being eaten alive by bugs. Fucking perfect. Santana scoots a little closer to Quinn, putting as much distance between herself and Brittany as she can. They had kissed...sort of, and it's all that Santana can think about it. She can't shake it from her mind, thinking about everything from the smell of Brittany's perfume, to the soft, gentle touch of her arms when she saved her from tripping over. Now she's supposed to sleep in the same small, confined space as her. It makes her heart ache that Brittany is less than a meter's distance from her, yet she can't have her. Especially now that she knows Brittany must feel at least something for her, too. She has to. You don't kiss someone if there's no attraction. Santana catches Brittany's gaze, and her heart leaps into her throat. She can see the conflict in Brittany eyes, it burning deep inside the blue orbs. For a long moment, it's like everything around them stops. It's just the two of them, their eyes still locked and their hearts hammering in their chests. Just them when,

"San!" Santana jerks in surprise when Rachel tugs on her arm. "Bill's been calling you, didn't you hear him?" Rachel stares up at her sister with a confused frown.

"Sorry. I was in my own little world, I guess," Santana murmurs, forcing a tight smile to her lips, and hoping that no one can see that it's fake. Santana notices that Bill and Richard are looking over at her, hopeful expressions on their faces. Shit. She had forgotten about that. She had promised them they could teach her to gut a fish. Santana doesn't know why they're so desperate to teach her, but she appreciates the massive effort everyone has been making with herself and Rachel. Even if the mere though of gutting a fish makes her feel ill. Standing up, Santana brushes dirt from the log off the back of her pants and makes her way over to the two men. She doesn't miss the fact that Quinn is positively beaming. It feels strange that such a small thing, like agreeing to be taught something new, makes Quinn so proud of her.

"Bill's been trying to get me to do that for years," Santana hears Susan tell Rachel.

"Brittany, did _you_ ever do it?" Rachel asks.

"Oh yeah, all the time. It's actually quite relaxing," Brittany smiles.

"Will you teach me?" Everyone smiles at the eagerness in Rachel's time, the little girl's eyes shining brightly in the light from the fire.

"It's late," Quinn murmurs apologetically, shooting her wife a warning look. Quinn knows that it won't matter to Brittany that it's almost one in the morning, she'd happily teach Rachel right now.

"Please," Rachel pleads, an angelic smile on her features as she walks across to Brittany and slumps down on her knee, her arms loosely slung around Brittany's neck. "I'll go to bed straight after, I promise." Santana glances over at her little sister and Brittany, despising herself for the surge of jealousy that washes over her. Rachel finally has two people in her life who want to be her parents, who not only accept her affectionate side, but welcome it. She shouldn't be feeling jealous about it, she should be overjoyed. Finally, her baby sister has the supportive, loving family that she always wanted, and deserves. Brittany and Quinn are able to offer her more than Santana was ever able to give her, no matter how hard Santana always tried.

"In the morning, I promise," Brittany states kindly, kissing Rachel's cheek and playing with the girl's long, brown hair. What Santana would give for Brittany to run her hands through her hair instead...

"Pinkie promise?" Rachel asks, her dark eyes playfully narrowing as she holds out her pinkie.

"Pinkie promise," Brittany nods, wrapping her much larger pinkie around Rachel's. "I think it's a good idea if you start winding down, it's late."

"Can I stay up to see your birthday cake?" Rachel's eyes widen as soon as the words leave her lips and she slaps her hand across her mouth. "I'm sorry!"

"It's okay, honey," Susan smiles. "It's not a surprise, we always light the candles on Britt's cake a little after midnight. She knows it's going to happen," she explains kindly. Santana catches her little sister's gaze and forces a reassuring smile to her lips, noticing Rachel's relief. She's glad that she can still reassure her little sister, even if she is completely useless when it comes to her own feelings. She forces herself to look down at the gross smelling fish in front of her, ignoring Brittany as best she can while carefully listening to Bill's instructions. Brittany was right, this is kind of relaxing. Santana feels the hairs on the back of her neck rise. She can feel Brittany watching her. Their eyes meet for a brief moment. It's like a crackle of electricity shoots between them, and Santana is mesmerized.

"Ow, jesus!" she drops the knife she had been using and harshly sucks in air through her teeth as she gazes down at the gash in her finger.

"Damn, you got yourself good there," Bill notes as Richard takes Santana's hand into her own. He presses a hanker-chief against the wound and holds it down firmly.

"We need to stop the bleeding before we clean it," he murmurs. "It doesn't look too deep, just big," Richard comments. Santana can feel everyone watching her and she blushes lightly, the tips of her ears turning pink. She feels stupid. Just when _something_ is going well, she manages to ruin it in some way. Typical. Just fucking typical. Sighing heavily, Santana pulls her hand out of Richard's and walks over to the log she had been sitting on earlier, slumping down on it and staring down at the crimson blood seeping through the hankerchief. Someone wraps an arm around her and rubs her arm soothingly, and she's glad to see that it's Quinn. Santana really can't handle being touched by Brittany right now. She leans into Quinn's side and accepts the comfort her new mother figure offers her, no longer in the mood to force a smile and pretend she's happy to be here. She stays in Quinn's arms even once the birthday cake is brought out, not missing the weird, weepy smile on Judy's face. Santana quietly sings along in a low murmur, mostly because everyone keeps glancing at her, and she watches as Brittany blows out her candles. All thirty of them. Brittany is thirty, and she's sixteen. This is all so fucked up. Santana suddenly feels cold when Quinn stands up, she hadn't realised the temperature had dropped so much until she lost Quinn's body heat. She stays silent when Quinn kneels down in front of her, the woman gently pulling the hanker-chief away and cleaning the cut. Once the bandaid is in place, Quinn offers her a kind smile.

"Why don't you go and get changed into whatever you're going to sleep in," Quinn suggests. "You look like you could use a little sleep." Santana nods, avoiding everyone's gaze as she makes her way to the tent.

"She's doing well." Quinn looks up at her wife and smiles.

"Yeah, she is," Quinn agrees. She stands up and presses a gentle kiss to Brittany's lips. "She's trying. She's really trying. It actually feel like we're making progress." Brittany immediately feels guilty. She knows that Santana is pretending. She knows that her actions tonight have seriously damaged Santana's progress. She knows that it was a dumbass move. They look up as Santana steps back out of the tent, still in the clothes she had been wearing.

"Where's my bag?" Brittany's heart sinks when Santana makes a pointed effort to only look at Quinn.

"It should be in there," Quinn frowns. "C'mon, I'll help you find it, I'm going to bed anyway. I'll be right in," Quinn smiles. She watches as Santana makes her way back to the tent, suspicion tugging at her gut as she notices the wariness on Santana's features. She knows it's probably anxiety from spending a full day in close quarters with new people, but a part of her actually hopes it's something else. Santana's had enough anxiety to last a lifetime, she hates the mere thought of her going through more. "Rachel," she calls, looking around for the ten year old and giving a sympathetic smile. "Say goodnight," Quinn prompts. "Everyone will still be here in the morning," she adds when Rachel pouts.

"I'll join you guys soon," Brittany murmurs, pulling Quinn close to her and kissing her deeply. "Goodnight, babe. I love you."

"Love you, too. Make sure Rachel joins us as soon as she's finished delaying the inevitable," Quinn states with a smirk, glancing over at Rachel as the girl moves in slow motion while saying goodnight to everyone. Quinn crouches and steps into the tent. She pointedly averts her eyes, for Santana's peace of mind, when she realizes the teenager is getting changed. She can tell that Santana wants to say something to her, or ask her something, and she waits in silence, allowing Santana the opportunity to do it in her own time.

"Can I...I just uh.."

"No matter what you're about to say, I'm not gonna judge you," Quinn mumbles sincerely. "Tell me what you need, sweetheart."

"Can I sleep next to you?" The question is simple, but Quinn knows what Santana is asking. She needs to be held. Quinn can do that. She wants to do that, and she will.

0-00-0

Santana groans softly as she wakes up, Quinn's arms around her restricting her movements and making her overheat. Carefully, she tries to untangle her...freezing in place when she hears the owner of the arms moan quietly. It's Brittany. Brittany's holding her close to her chest, her arms like a vice around Santana's thin frame and they've just tightened even more. As far as Santana can tell, they're alone in the tent and she keeps her eyes squeezed closed, praying that Brittany just wakes up on her own and lets her go. Although, she'd be lying to herself if she said she upset about being held in Brittany's arms. She feels safe. For the first time in a long time, she feels completely protected. Santana can't stop thinking about how it would feel to wake up like this every single morning, how it would feel if their circumstances were different. No guilt, no tears, no panic attacks, just them.

"Shit!" Brittany's harsh whisper causes Santana to jump as she is suddenly pushed away. "Santana, wake up," Brittany hisses, and Santana gazes at her, forcing her best look of confusion to her face.

"What? What is it?" Santana figures the best way to get out of this is to pretend she has no idea that they were cuddling.

"We were...cuddling!" Brittany spits out, as though cuddling is a form of torture. Though, mentally, it is a form of torture to them. "We need to be careful, this is wrong. So, so wrong," Brittany mutters, mostly to herself. "What if Quinn saw?!"

"So what? Jesus, Brittany, calm down!" Santana sighs loudly, reminding herself that there will most likely be people sitting outside of the tent, just a few meters away from them. "Quinn was hugging me last night, it's the same thing."

"Except it's not," Brittany retorts in hushed hiss. "It's completely different, and you know that, Santana!"

"To her, it is. This is all completely fucked up, but she doesn't know. Let's just forget about last night and move on," Santana harshly whispers. "If you can't do that then tell me now, because I would rather go back to the foster home now than be given false reassurances and then sent back there months down the line. You kissed me, and I liked it," Santana mutters, her forehead creasing as she blinks back tears.

"You are not going back there, I swear to you that won't happen," Brittany tells her passionately. "No matter what, you are not going anyway. Under absolutely no circumstances." Brittany watches as a tear runs down Santana's cheek, the teenager clearly struggling to hold it together. She reaches out and lays her hand on Santana's arm,

"Don't!" Santana guiltily looks away, "don't. Just don't," she repeats in a softer voice. "I can't do this," Santana whispers, looking around her and grabbing her hooded sweatshirt. She pulls it on, on top of her pajamas, and stuffs her sneakers onto her feet.

"Santana..."

"Just stop, okay? I can't breathe when I'm around you." Santana unzips the tent with trembling fingers and all but falls out of it, her breathing quick and uneven as she tells herself not to look back at Brittany. What the fuck just happened? It's all just so confusing. How the hell did this happen? Did she really deserve more crap in her life? Hasn't she been through enough?

"Morning, honey." Santana looks up to see Quinn watching her, a kind and warm, maternal smile gracing her features.

"Morning," Santana murmurs, slumping down in one of the camping chairs and shimmying it closer to Quinn. "Where is everyone?" she asks, noticing that Quinn and Judy are the only ones out here.

"Fishing...again," Quinn rolls her eyes playfully while Judy hands Santana a mug full of black, steaming coffee.

"Thanks," Santana mumbles.

"You wanna head out there and join them?" Judy asks, "I can show you the way."

"No thanks, I think I'm done with fish," Santana remarks, holding up her injured finger with a wry smile. She feels calmer now that she's not in a confined space with Brittany, but feels guilty every time she even looks at Quinn. Yet, she's unable to push the woman away anymore. She doesn't want to, she likes having a mother figure again. It's something that has been missing from her life for a long time. Too long.

"How does it feel today?" Quinn asks, taking Santana's hand into hers and gently peeling back the bandaid.

"Okay, I guess," Santana shrugs.

"It doesn't look all that bad, all the blood made it seem worse," Quinn notes. Santana nods, noticing Brittany crawling out of the tent and scooting closer to Quinn. "Just make sure you keep it clean, my mom has a few thousand bottles of hand sanitizer in her tent," Quinn adds, shooting Judy a teasing grin. "Morning, babe."

"Morning," Brittany grunts, stooping down to chastely kiss her wife on the lips before heading straight to Judy for some coffee. Neither Brittany or Santana even glance in each other's direction, both of them terrified of letting anyone know that there is tension between them. Even when Susan joins them, Santana keeps her gaze trained on the grass, a large lump rising in her throat. Even when Susan and Judy are roped into going on a hike with Brittany, her eyes are firmly away from Brittany's.

"You don't have to stay here with me if you want to go with them," Santana murmurs.

"I know. I want to stay here with you," Quinn smiles. Again, guilt ripples through Santana. She wishes she could just turn her feelings off, she wishes she deserved the love and affection that Quinn is showing her. Right now, she feels like a traitor. "Hiking isn't all that it's cracked up to be anyway," Quinn shrugs. "It's far too hot for all that exercise." Santana smiles weakly and nods. "Are you okay? I know this is a lot for you."

"I'm fine," Santana whispers. "You're making it easier."

"Yeah?" A smile spreads across Quinn's features and Santana could swear that there are tears in her hazel eyes.

"Yeah."

"Good. That's what I want. If I can make things easier and better for you, then I'm happy," Quinn states sincerely. "And you just have to tell me if something is bothering you, I'll always do everything in my power to help you."

"I know," Santana nods. "I know." They fall into silence, Quinn's arm loosely slung around Santana's shoulder, the palm of her hand rubbing soothing circles on the top of her arm. Guilt builds and builds inside of Santana, and bile rises in her throat. She loves Quinn so much, she loves having a parent who cares about her and wants to look after her, but all she can think about is her feelings for Brittany. What if Quinn ever finds out? It would destroy her, and Santana would hate herself even more than she already does. Santana abruptly stands, confusing Quinn in the process. "Uh...bathroom," Santana mutters, gesturing to the woods. Quinn nods, her brow still furrowed and concern spreading clouding her eyes. Santana bites down on her bottom lip as she walks away from Quinn, willing herself not to cry. Not yet. Not in front of her. She reaches the trees and immediately follows the route for the short cut Susan had showed her, stopping in her tracks when she hears voices. Santana dives behind the nearest tree, listening carefully.

"Only you, Judy...only you," she hears Susan laugh, hearing only snippets of their conversation.

"At least it's never boring when I'm around," Judy quips. Santana steps out from the tree, realizing there's no reason at all to be hiding. Jeez, what the hell is wrong with her? She's being so weird. "Hey there, Santana. You're not lost again, are you?" Judy asks with a playful smirk.

"Not this time," Santana replies politely, forcing yet another smile to her face. "Where's Brittany?"

"She's back there, she likes to take it slow after a hike," Susan tells her stiffly, and Santana frowns, immediately knowing that she has upset Susan in some way. "Are you looking for her to apologize?" Santana stares blankly at Brittany's mother, not missing how awkward Judy looks and not all surprised when the oldest Fabray excuses herself. "Darling, we all care about you, but you need to try and stop taking things out on Brittany," Susan states as soon as they are alone.

"What do you mean?" Santana questions. For once, she's not outwardly faking an emotion. Her confusion is very much real.

"I noticed that things were very strained between you and Brittany this morning, she told me that you guys had an argument," Susan begins. The stern tone of her voice tells Santana that she is speaking to her as her new grandmother, it's not because she dislikes her. "An argument about your attitude. Now, I don't like to interfere, but you are a part of this family now, honey. And in this family, we show respect to each other. Having an attitude with your elders will only lead to trouble," Susan tells her. "You're not a bad kid, sweetheart. Don't try and act like one." They both look up as Brittany approaches them. "I'll leave you ladies to it." Santana feels herself grow furious as she watches Susan walk away, how could Brittany do this to her?!

"Santana...what's going on?" Brittany asks cautiously, a slight layer of sweat causing her face to shine in the sunlight.

"You told your mom that we were arguing because of my attitude?" Santana asks incredulously. "Are you fucking kidding me?!"

"She noticed that we were being weird around each other," Brittany defends herself. "I had to tell her something!"

"But why blame me? Why does it have to be my fault? Why couldn't it be because of something you did? Why me?!" Santana cries, furious tears stinging the corner of her eyes.

"Does it really matter? It's not a big deal. All she did was tell you off," Brittany reasons.

"Don't you see? It _is_ a big deal. You're letting her think that I'm selfishly ruining your birthday with my attitude. You made me look like an asshole to the people that I'm desperate to be accepted by." Santana's face crumples and the tears that she had held back for hours start to flow down her cheeks. "Things were actually starting to go right..."

"San..." Brittany deflates as Santana spins on her heel and storms away from her. Fuck. She didn't even think of it that way. She's supposed to be looking after her, making her life better, but all she's doing is making it worse. She's falling for a sixteen year old girl, and completely messing with her head in the process. Brittany stifles a sob with her clenched fist, tears leaking from her blue eyes. She needs to fix this. She needs to do _something._ But what?

_**To be continued...Reviews are appreciated. Next chapter will be up next Monday.**_


	18. Chapter 18

_**I do not own Glee or any of the original characters, It all belongs to RIB and Fox. Any characters you don't recognise are my own creations.**_

_**Thank you for the reviews for the last chapter, I really appreciate them all. This story still has a long way to go and I appreciate your patience.**_

_**Thank you to my awesome beta, N.**_

_**R&R please.**_

Chapter 18

She's tired. No, she's mad and disappointed, and she feels betrayed. She's tired too, though. Tired of trusting people, only for them to let her down. Tired of making an effort, only for it to be rejected. Why would Brittany do that to her? Why would she throw her under a bus like that? Santana doesn't understand it. Brittany could have made up any old excuse, or played it off as her mom just over thinking things. But, no, Brittany blamed her. Brittany lied to save her own ass, and made Santana look bad in the process. Santana groans and flops onto her back, staring up at the roof of the tent with such intensity that it's a miracle there hasn't been a whole burned into it. She had told Quinn that she had a headache and crawled in here as soon as she got back from her encounter with Brittany. She isn't up to facing the others. She just can't. Santana hears someone approach the tent, and she closes her eyes when whoever it is starts to unzip the opening.

"She's asleep," Santana hears Quinn's voice murmur, keeping her eyes closed until the tent is zipped back up again. Santana chews on her bottom lip and glares at Brittany's sweater that lays in a crumpled heap in the corner of the tent. All she wants to do is wear it and allow Brittany's scent to engulf her. No, she's angry with her. She can't be thinking like that. Brittany fucked up. "Did something happen? She seemed upset before she went to lay down," Quinn comments.

"She may just be a little embarrassed." Santana winces when she hears Susan's voice.

"About what?"

"She and Brittany got into a little argument about her attitude earlier. I gently reminded her that she doesn't need to fight us anymore," Susan explains. "I think it may be some sort of defence mechanism. She pushes people away because she's afraid of being hurt by people."

"Yeah, we noticed that," Quinn states softly, and Santana can hear the sadness in her voice. Santana's heart sinks. Brittany's lies have allowed Quinn to think that Santana has let her down. She's disappointed. Santana wonders if _she_ is out there, too. If she is, will she defend her? Will she admit that Santana didn't do anything wrong. Brittany's actions remind her of that one evil kid at school, the one that would get other kids into trouble just for their own entertainment. "Britt didn't mention anything." Santana blinks back tears when she hears the disappointment in Quinn's voice.

"She probably didn't want to make it a bigger deal than it is," Susan replies kindly. "You know what Brittany is like, she never wants to upset anyone. She's far too sweet to do that." Tears trickle out of Santana's dark eyes, running across her temples and dripping into her hair due to her lying on her back. Hearing that just devastates her. Brittany lied. She pulled a random excuse out of her ass without even thinking about what it would do to Santana, and her mother is talking about her as though she's some sort of angel. Brittany looks like a complete sweetheart, while Santana is once again just seen as the troubled kid who doesn't make any sort effort. It would suck if any of them did this to her, but Brittany doing this to her just breaks her fucking heart.

"I overreacted." Santana sits up when she hears Brittany's voice. "I just took it the wrong way, Santana's fine. She's great, actually." Despite being furious with Brittany just seconds ago, Santana's heart soars. "I was being grouchy, Santana was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. I'm actually really proud of her, she's made some amazing progress recently."

"The poor kid didn't do anything wrong and you let me tell her off?" Susan asks incredulously.

"I didn't _let_ you do anything, mom," Brittany argues. "You chose to interfere," she remarks.

"I was only trying to help," Susan retorts. "I thought it would be good for the girl to hear that, no matter what she does, we still care about her and want her to do well."

"And we appreciate it, Susan," Quinn calmly interjects. "That's exactly what we've been telling Santana since day one."

"I guess I owe Santana an apology when she wakes up."

"I'm sure she will appreciate that," Quinn sincerely replies. "She may need a little space at first, though. It could have knocked her confidence a little bit considering she wasn't in the wrong at all." Santana can swear she can make out a little bitterness in Quinn's tone, but she isn't sure. Quinn has a way of telling someone off without them even realizing it.

0-00-0

As she sits in one of the folding chairs in the warmth of the early evening, Santana starts to think that camping maybe isn't as bad as she thought. Sure, their weekend has been filled with drama and bug bites but, right now, she actually kind of likes it. It's warm, it's pretty, and she's confident that she'll be able to sneak off with some of the alcohol later. She just needs the others to get a little more drunk first. She watches as her little sister helps Bill build up the fire, and smiles at the genuine happiness in Rachel's eyes. Rachel, despite everything, has always been a pretty happy kid but she's even more so now. Santana flinches as someone slumps down into the chair next to her, instantly knowing who it is without even having to look.

"Hey, you doing alright?" Brittany asks with a friendly smile. Santana gazes at her for a moment, forcing herself not to grin at the adorable freckles on Brittany's nose due to being in the sun all day.

"I'm fine," Santana replies stiffly, turning away from Brittany again with a roll of her eyes. She may not be furious with Brittany anymore, but she's still not quite ready to speak to her again. She did lie about her and make her look awful, after all.

"You seem mad," Brittany notes quietly.

"I'm not, I just don't want to talk to you just yet," Santana states.

"Because I lied to my mom about you?"

"Yes, and don't think for one second that telling the truth afterwards makes it any better," Santana tells her darkly. "You shouldn't have said it in the first place. You know how much it would screw me up," she whispers.

"It wasn't fair of you to do that, it was really fucked up. Don't think I'm suddenly going to be your best friend now that you've told them the truth."

"I know. I'm sorry. I don't even know why I did it, San. I panicked, I guess," Brittany murmurs, guilt written all over her features. Santana nods, trying her best to ignore the fluttering in her stomach caused by the use of a nickname. "It wasn't fair to you, and I regret it. Nothing like this will ever happen again, I promise you that. I want you to be able to trust me, Santana."

"I do trust you. I'm just...hurt, I guess," Santana responds quietly, refusing to returns Brittany's gaze. She can never think straight when she is looking into those beautiful blue eyes.

"I understand that," Brittany nods. "I'm sorry," she repeats sadly. She can't believe she did this to Santana. How could she be so fucking selfish? She hates herself for hurting her.

"Are you guys fighting?" They look up to see Rachel standing in front of them, the girl watching them warily.

"No, honey, we're not fighting," Brittany replies easily, a kind smile on her lips. "I was just apologising to Santana for being so grouchy with her this morning."

"Oh, okay. You shouldn't be grouchy on your birthday," Rachel says softly.

"It's the only day of the year that I'm allowed to be grouchy," Brittany winks. Santana can't stop the smile that tugs at her mouth, Brittany is so good with Rachel. "I'm going to grab something from the tent. Do you guys need anything?"

"No, I'm good," Santana murmurs while Rachel shakes her head no. Brittany playfully ruffles Rachel's hair as she passes her. "You okay?" Santana asks, "are you having a nice time?"

"Yeah, camping is really fun," Rachel grins, slumping down into the chair that Brittany has just vacated. She falls silent for a moment, nervously chewing on her bottom lip. "Just say it, Rach," Santana states knowingly, shooting her an encouraging smile.

"I'm sorry I've been so weird," Rachel tells her timidly. "I'm just..scared," she murmurs.

"Of me?"

"No!" Rachel exclaims, her brown eyes wide and full of alarm. "I'm not scared _of_ you, I'm scared _for_ you. You just don't seem happy, and I really, really want you to be. You deserve to be happy, but you look so sad all the time." Santana sighs softly and reaches out to cup her little sister's face in her hands.

"You need to stop worrying about me, babe. I'm good, okay? I'm happy. It's just...it's a lot to get used to, but I'm trying," Santana explains. "I _am_ happy. I'm happier than I have been for a long time, just like you are," she smiles kindly. Rachel studies Santana for a long moment, as though searching her sister's dark eyes for signs that she is lying. Eventually, she relaxes, a relieved smile spreading across her face, but there is still uncertainty in her eyes. "Is there something else that's bothering you?" Santana questions quietly, her brow furrowed.

"Do you..." Rachel sighs, "do you think mom and dad would be mad at us?" Rachel asks quietly.

"Why would they be mad at us, baby girl?" Santana pushes, her frown deepening.

"Because we're happy with our new parents," Rachel whispers. Santana's eyes widen and her heart aches at the sadness in her baby sister's gaze.

"Oh god, no. Of course not, Rach!" Santana reassures her. "Come here," she says, patting her knees. She's relieved that Rachel doesn't hesitate, the girl all but flying into her arms and perching on her lap. "Mom and dad loved us both so, so much. All they ever wanted was for us to be happy and healthy. I promise you that they definitely would not be mad," Santana swears passionately, kissing Rachel's temple and rubbing her back. "They would be so happy that we have two people who love us and want to take care of us. They know that Quinn and Brittany aren't replacing them. Loving Brittany and Quinn doesn't mean we don't love them anymore, your heart can hold an infinite amount of love, babe. There's plenty to go around for everyone." Santana wraps her arms tightly around Rachel. As much as she adores that her sister isn't wary of her anymore and is so easily allowing her to hold her, Santana hates that this is the reason for it. She just wants Rachel to be happy, seeing her look so sad damn near breaks her heart.

"You promise?"

"I promise."

0-00-0

Santana glances across at Rachel as the girl sleeps in one of the chairs, the excitement of the weekend had finally caught up with her a little while ago but, Rachel being Rachel, she didn't want to go to bed in case she missed something. Santana smiles softly and throws a blanket over her. It doesn't feel all that cold to her, in fact she's pretty warm, but Rachel always gets cold pretty easily. Santana looks around at the adults, noticing that none of them seem even slightly sober, and none of them have even noticed that she has moved. This will work in her favor. She sneakily steps backwards, out of the firelight and into the shadows, and grabs a bottle of vodka out of the cooler. Feeling quite proud of herself, Santana stuffs the bottle into the large pocket in front of her hooded sweatshirt.

"I'm just going to the bathroom," she calls out, knowing they'd come looking for her if she just disappeared without saying anything.

"Okay, babe," she hears Quinn call back and she starts walking towards the trees, glad that she now knows her way around this place. Sort of. Santana picks up the pace once she is inside the trees, weaving through them to get to the lake. It only takes her a few minutes to reach the edge of the water and she walks around to pier, sitting down at the edge of it with her legs tucked underneath her. Smirking cockily to herself, Santana pulls the bottle of vodka out of her pocket and cracks it open. Santana takes a long gulp, wincing as the alcohol burns the back of her throat, before reaching into her bra and pulling out a pack of cigarettes. She pulls a cigarette out of the pack, along with the lighter, and puts it between her lips. After lighting it, she alternates between taking deep drags of the cigarette and long gulps of the vodka. It's not long before she feels the alcohol going to her head, a nice buzz settling over her. Santana freezes when she hears a twig snap somewhere behind her, panic building inside her. Then, she feels it. Brittany is behind her, and she's watching her. Brittany doesn't say anything as she sits down next to Santana, not even blinking when she notices the cigarettes and vodka.

"How did you know I was here?" Santana's voice is slurred and her movements are sluggish as she throws the cigarette butt into the lake and gulps down another mouthful of vodka.

"I saw you take the bottle," Brittany states quietly. "I followed you here. I was hoping you wouldn't drink it so I waited by the trees for a while."

"Aren't you going to confiscate it and punish me?" Santana asks mockingly. "Or take my cigarettes away and make me smoke the electronic one?"

"I really don't want to cause another argument with you today," Brittany admits softly. "Besides, you're already drunk," she notes. "As for the cigarettes, the only thing we asked you to do was make an effort to quit, and to smoke the electronic one instead. You've done exactly as we've asked. I'd have to be dumb to think you wouldn't slip up and smoke," Brittany sighs.

"Quinn won't like that," Santana remarks dryly, pulling another cigarette out of the pack and lighting it.

"Quinn won't find out," Brittany murmurs in response.

"You're gonna lie to her?"

"We're already lying to her. This _thing_ with us...she doesn't know about that," Brittany states quietly. "Nor will she ever know," she adds firmly. "Whatever it is...we're lying to her about it by hiding it." Santana sighs heavily. She really can't argue with that...that's exactly what they're doing. Lying.

"You know...I'm never gonna view you as my parent," Santana suddenly says. "Believe me, I wish I could, but you're never gonna be a mom to me. I can't ever see you like that. There's something between us...and it's not a mother daughter something."

"Where does that leave us?" Brittany questions softly. She's surprised. Not by Santana's admission, but by the fact that it doesn't hurt her. She's never going to view Santana as her daughter. She'll never have the same relationship with Santana that Quinn does, and Santana will never have the same relationship with Brittany that Brittany has with Rachel.

"I dunno," Santana shrugs. She watches Brittany carefully for a moment, taking another drink of her liquid confidence, before kneeling up and crawling towards Brittany. She stops right in front of her, their faces a few inches apart. "I wish I wasn't in love with you," Santana whispers. "But I am, I'm completely in love with you."

"You're in love with me?" Santana barely hears Brittany's words as she closes the gap between them, her full lips meeting Brittany's in a soft gentle kiss. A kiss she has wanted to share with Brittany for so long, a kiss so special and great that Santana's insides turn to mush. A kiss she never wants to end. A kiss that is reciprocated by Brittany. A kiss with the woman that she is completely and utterly in love with.

_**To be continued...Please review. Next chapter will be posted next Monday. If you have any questions about this story, feel free to ask either on here or on tumblr. Thanks for reading.**_


	19. Chapter 19

_**I do not own Glee or any of the original characters, It all belongs to RIB and Fox. Any characters you don't recognise are my own creations.**_

_**I'm absolutely shocked that this story has reached 500 reviews already! This story was just a wee, twisted story that I had floating around in my head, I never expected this kind of response. Thank you!**_

_**Some of you may have saw on Tumblr that I changed the update day for this to Fridays. If you didn't know that from Tumblr, then you do now ;-)**_

_**R&R please.**_

Chapter 19

The kiss ends, and Santana sinks backwards onto her ass, her fists clenched and resting on the rough wood of the pier. Her breath hitches, and she feels dizzy. Perhaps from the alcohol, or the kiss. Probably both. She watches Brittany carefully, gazing at her and easily noticing how uneven her breathing is. Her lips feel tingly and she resists running her tongue along them, she wants to savor the taste of Brittany on them. Santana can't work out how Brittany is feeling, Brittany's features look controlled and blank. Her own feelings, however, are all over the place, and there's no hiding it. She knows that Brittany is able to read her like a book. She had done it. She had told Brittany she was in love with her. She had kissed her, and Brittany had kissed her back! The only thing stopping her from bursting into some sort of ridiculous victory dance is that fact that Brittany didn't tell her she loved her back. Brittany hadn't even properly admitted to her feelings. Santana knows Brittany is attracted to her, that much is obvious. But she wants to know how she makes Brittany feel. Does she make Brittany feel the same as Brittany makes her feel? Does Brittany's stomach lurch and flutter when she walks into a room? Does her heart pound so hard, that it feels as though it's battering her ribs, whenever she smiles at her? Does her heart ache, and feel like it's breaking in half when she sees her with someone else?

"Stop it." Santana's gaze snaps into focus when she hears Brittany speak, her mouth feeling dry and her palms sweaty.

"What?"

"Stop trying to see into my mind," Brittany murmurs, her eyes fixed on the still water of the lake.

"I wouldn't have to if you just talked to me," Santana replies evenly. "I can never tell what you're thinking. I can usually ready people pretty well, but you...you're a mystery to me." Brittany sighs softly and hugs her knees to her chest, resting her chin on them as she stares into the water. It's as though she is searching for answers. Answers to questions that aren't even fully formed yet.

"I can't tell you how I feel," Brittany whispers after a moment. "I can't tell you because I don't know how I feel. You intrigue me, Santana, and I want to be around you all of the time. I don't understand it, though. Kissing you was like nothing else I've experienced before, but I don't know what that means," Brittany admits. "I wish I could tell you something more than that, San. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry for being honest," Santana murmurs. "You know how I feel, and now I know that you don't know how you feel." They fall into silence. Santana watches as Brittany reaches forward and grabs the vodka. Brittany takes a long, deep drink and grimaces before handing it back to Santana. Santana is surprised, and doesn't immediately drink it.

"Are you expecting me to tell you off or ground you after what we...after what just happened?" Brittany questions dryly. Santana rolls her eyes and gulps down some vodka, avoiding Brittany's gaze as she lights up another cigarette. "How did you get them?" Brittany asks softly.

"I got a senior to buy them for me," Santana states. "I like to have some around. Just in case." Brittany nods, falling into silence again. Santana can tell that Brittany is holding something back, a question. "Just ask," Santana murmurs.

"I just uh...are you gay?" Santana's eyes widen at the question and her mouth snaps shut. "I mean...it's not important, I just...uh..I'm curious. Quinn caught you with a guy, I caught you with a girl and now, well, me.."

"I don't know," Santana sighs. "I guess I am, but I'm not sure. I don't really wanna put a label on myself, and I don't want to start telling people yet."

"Good. And don't let other people put a label on you either," Brittany states seriously. At the back of her mind, Santana can't help but think how fucking weird this night is. They've gone from kissing, to drinking, to Brittany giving her life advice. "We'd better be getting back," Brittany murmurs, taking the vodka from Santana and nodding towards the cigarettes, "you'd better hide those." Santana nods and stuffs the pack back into her bra, flushing furiously when she catches Brittany's gaze. Brittany stands up and stretches, her sweater riding up and giving Santana a great view of those glorious abs. Brittany holds out her hand, Santana taking it and allowing Brittany to pull her to her feet. She drops Brittany's hand as soon as she's on her feet, trying to ignore the flash of hurt that shoots through her blue eyes. Brittany leads the way through the trees, Santana following a few steps behind and staring at the ground underneath their feet. The closer they get to the camp, to Quinn, the guiltier she feels.

"Maybe you should go back first," Santana states suddenly, stopping Brittany in her tracks. "I don't want it to look weird...I don't want Quinn to ask questions," she adds as Brittany turns to face her.

"You feel guilty," Brittany murmurs. It isn't a question. "I do too." Their eyes meet, understanding in each pair. "She can't find out. No matter what happens...whatever this is...she can't _ever_ find out," Brittany tells her seriously, her brow furrowed.

"I know," Santana whispers, blinking back sudden tears. "I know." She swipes at the few stray tears that leak from her eyes, smearing the moisture across her cheeks. "I can't hurt her...she's..." Santana trails off.

"Your mom," Brittany supplies softly. Santana drops her head and nods, furiously holding back the sob that builds in her throat. "I see how you guys are with each other, and I know how happy it makes her that you're letting her in. Rachel was easy, she was eager to be a part of this family. You were different. You still are."

0-00-0

If Santana thought there was even the slightest chance that Quinn would let her leave school now, she would be out of the doors in a mere second. Today has sucked. Completely fucking sucked. Three pop quizzes had been sprung on her today, and all three of them went seriously wrong for her. It's like her brain has packed up and gone on vacation today, and she doesn't like it. Not one little bit. She's exhausted from their weekend camping, and Brittany is all that she can think about. Then she starts feeling guilty again, and then she just wants to bang her head against a brick wall. It's a never ending vicious circle. She reaches her locker and grabs all of the crap that she needs to take home, slamming the locker door closed as hard as she can.

"Bad day?" Santana sighs heavily and turns to face Mack, irritation building inside of her as she takes in Mack's smug smirk. "You know, if you're feeling a little stressed, I can help you out."

"And why would you want to do that?" Santana asks her icily.

"You're hot...I'm hot," Mack shrugs. "You're not a bad lay. It'd just be two friends helping each other out. I'd even be okay with your new mom watching us again. Hell, she could join in if she wants to...she's hot for an older broad."

"Don't talk about her like that!" Santana snaps. "She wasn't watching us, she was just shocked about what she saw," she states defensively.

"Oh, I seem to have touched a nerve," Mack comments. "Look...I'm just messing around. I didn't mean to offend you." Santana is surprised by the sincerity she hears in Mack's voice, and she eyes her carefully for a moment. "C'mon, let me buy you a coffee. Think of it as a peace offering." Santana eyes Mack for a moment before she nods, cautiously. "I don't bite. Well, I do, but only with your permission," Mack grins. Santana can't help but be suspicious. Why is Mack being nice to her now? Why does she even want to be nice to her?

"What's the catch?" Santana asks lowly.

"There's no catch," Mack assures her. Santana gazes at her for a moment, confused by the look in Mack's eyes. Is that nerves? Why is she nervous? "Look, I get that we were just screwing around and that you don't seem all that interested in me, but...I like you," Mack whispers, her eyes darting up and down the hallway, making sure there's nobody listening.

"You like me?"

"Yeah, I like you. I don't know how to act around you, and even if you only want someone to mess around with, I'm okay with that. I just...hang out with me, give me a chance. Maybe we could have something, maybe we couldn't...I just..." Mack groans, hating herself for being so awkward, "you seemed to like me when we were having sex. Am I wrong?"

"I dunno," Santana shrugs. "I mean, we're not even friends. We don't know anything about each other."

"Well then, come get some coffee with me," Mack smiles nervously. "C'mon, I know I'm a bitch, but so are you. We have our reasons for it, and we've had a good time together before. Just try it, Santana." Santana sighs softly and eyes the girl in front of her, surprised to find herself agreeing with her. What harm could it do? It's not like she can go on dates with Brittany, or have a relationship with her.

"Alright," Santana eventually murmurs, a small smile playing on her full lips. "You can buy me coffee." Santana allows Mack to lead her outside to the parking lot, cursing softly when she sees Quinn's car. She had completely forgotten about Quinn picking her up. Santana mumbles to Mack to come with her, telling her she'll only be a couple of seconds. Quinn rolls down her window as Santana approaches the car, smiling warmly at the teenager that she views as her child.

"Hey, honey. How was school?" Quinn asks as Santana leans on the car next to her window.

"It was alright," Santana shrugs. "This is Mack," she says, gesturing to the other teenager as she awkwardly hovers close by. We were gonna go get some coffee if it's okay with you," Santana adds. Quinn glances at Mack, instantly recognizing her as the girl that Brittany had caught Santana in her bedroom with, and she's instantly wary. Santana had been doing so well lately.

"Uh..well, what about your homework?" Quinn questions hesitantly.

"We can do it at the Lima Bean," Santana states, eyeing Quinn strangely.

"How about you both come back to the house, Mack could stay for dinner," Quinn suggests. At least if they're in the house she can keep an eye on them. Santana looks over her shoulder at Mack, raising her eyebrows in question. Mack shrugs, leaving the decision up to Santana.

"Yeah. I guess that'd be cool," Santana murmurs.

"Okay," Quinn forces a smile, "hop in." Santana motions for Mack to get into the back of the car and moves around to the front passenger door. She slides in and leans over the center console to press a quick kiss to Quinn's cheek. "You doing okay?" Quinn asks her softly, still concerned about Santana after she had been falsely accused of things by Brittany's mom.

"Yeah, I'm good. Just a little tired," Santana mutters. She's touched by the concern, but she can't shake the aching guilt that gnaws at her gut. She loves Quinn so damn much, and it feels like she has mother again. It feels like she's wanted again, like she's loved and important to someone again. Yet, all she can think of is Brittany. Brittany's smile, her laugh, her dancing, her eyes...everything.

"Uhh, Mrs Fabray-Pierce, I just wanted to apologize for what happened the last time I was at your house," Mack states politely from the back seat. "It was direspectful to yourself and your wife, I'm sorry." Quinn gazes at Mack through the rear view mirror, the smile on her face is now genuine and not forced.

"Thank you, I appreciate your apology," Quinn tells her. "So why don't we put all that behind us," she suggests. Santana feels a little better now that it doesn't feel so awkward inside the confined space of the car, but she can't help but think that it'll be much worse once they get home. How will Brittany react? Will she be jealous? Santana smirks. Maybe Brittany being jealous will be a good thing.

_**To be continued...**_

_**It's short, I know, but I'm struggling a little bit with the next part so you guys will get an extra long chapter next week. How'd you feel about Mack? Please review.**_


	20. Chapter 20

_**I do not own Glee or any of the original characters, It all belongs to RIB and Fox. Any characters you don't recognise are my own creations.**_

_**Thank you so much for all of your reviews so far! I'm overwhelmed with all of the support for this story, and I appreciate it so much!**_

_**R&R please.**_

Chapter 20

Santana doesn't think she has ever felt as awkward in her life as much as she does now. She can only imagine how Mack must be feeling since she is, after all, the one on the receiving end of Brittany's furious gaze. Mack, to her credit, is doing a great job of ignoring it and pretending that everything is okay, but Santana can tell that she's just as uncomfortable as she is. Hell, they all are. Santana glances at Quinn, Quinn offering her a reassuring smile and a small, apologetic smile. This is painfully awkward. Even Rachel looks uncomfortable and she keeps looking around at everyone, trying to work out why Brittany seems to hate Mack. Santana notices Quinn shake her head and place her hand on Rachel's knee, telling her that now is not the time. Mack looks relieved when Quinn starts clearing up, jumping out of her seat almost immediately,

"thank you for dinner. It was very nice of you to invite me," Mack states politely.

"It was our pleasure," Quinn replies genuinely, even though Brittany's face is telling everyone that, no, it was not a pleasure. "You don't have to rush off," she adds.

"No, I should. My parents will be expecting me," Mack murmurs. Santana stands up, shooting Brittany a dark look, and leads Mack to the door. "Wow, Brittany really hates me, huh?" Santana grimaces apologetically and shrugs.

"I don't think she hates you," Santana murmurs. "I think she's just a little weird with you because she walked in on us," she adds softly. "Quinn's okay with you, though."

"Yeah, Quinn seems nicer."

"Brittany's nice too!" Santana's words have a defensive edge to them, and she inwardly curses herself when Mack raises a questioning eyebrow. "Sorry, I just...she's been good to me. They both have."

"You're right, I'm sorry," Mack tells her quietly. "Can I buy you dinner tomorrow night?" There's an eager excitement in Mack's gaze that Santana can't help but find endearing.

"I'd really like it if you did, I just have to check that it's okay with Quinn and Brittany first," Santana tells her. "I'll let you know tomorrow at school?"

"Yeah, that's cool. Uh..thanks for dinner," Mack mumbles. For a moment, Santana thinks Mack is going to hug her or kiss her, but the other teenager merely waves awkward and all but dives out of the door. Santana rolls her eyes and smirks as she watches Mack quickly walk down the drive. She's somewhat convinced that Mack is scared of Brittany, and that amuses her big time. Closing the door, Santana makes her back into the dining room and glares at Brittany as the woman sits at the table by herself. She can hear Quinn and Rachel in the kitchen, so she reminds herself to be careful.

"Don't look at me like that, Santana. I have every right..."

"You have _no_ right!" Santana cuts Brittany off. "Absolutely no right. She apologised and she was nice to you the whole damn time, even though you spent the evening throwing her dirty looks," she hisses as quietly as she can.

"I did not appreciate coming home and finding her in my home," Brittany retorts venomously. "I'm sure you haven't forgotten what happened the last time she was in this house, I don't want her here and I do not want you to hang out with her. She's not good for you," Brittany explains firmly.

"You don't even know her!" Santana exclaims.

"And I don't want to. I don't want her in this house, and that's final." Brittany folds her arms across her chest and glares at Santana, daring her to argue with her.

"Like hell it is. It's not her is it? You don't have anything against her personally," Santana sneers. "You just don't like anyone who could have feelings for me. Well tough shit, Brittany." Santana tries to step out of the dining room, but is stopped by Brittany's hand clamping around her wrist.

"It's not like that," Brittany states lowly, gazing intensely into Santana's eyes.

"Can you honestly tell me that it's not?" Santana asks quietly. "Be truthful." Brittany falters, and her gaze drops to the floor and her hand dropping from Santana's wrist. "Yeah...I didn't think so," Santana murmurs. "You can't do this to me, Brittany. You can't expect me to be alone just because of... what we have," she whispers. "Because you're not alone, are you? You have Quinn."

"I'm sorry," Brittany murmurs, and she at least has the decency to look ashamed of herself. "I just...I don't like it."

"Yeah, well...there's a lot of things I don't like," Santana mutters. She sighs heavily and throws Brittany an exasperated glance before stalking out of the dining room. Brittany listens as Santana stomps upstairs, her bedroom door slamming closed a few seconds later. Brittany sighs softly, scrubbing her face with her hand, and makes her way into the kitchen. She finds Quinn and Rachel doing the washing up, and she doesn't miss the dark, angry look that Quinn shoots in her direction. If looks could kill, Brittany's heart would have dropped down dead right there and then.

"Do you guys need any help?"

"Nope." Brittany winces when she hears Quinn's ice cold tone, knowing straight away that her wife is pissed with her. Brittany steps forward and places her hand on Rachel's shoulder,

"Go have your shower," Brittany murmurs, holding her hand out to take the dish towel from the girl.

"But Quinn said..."

"Go have your shower," Brittany repeats, smiling when Rachel relents and hands her the towel. "Thanks, honey. Come back down when you're down, we can watch a movie before bed if you want to," she suggests. Brittany waits until Rachel is out of the kitchen before she turns to face Quinn, "you're pissed at me." It isn't a question.

"Of course I am," Quinn snaps. "You were an ass to that poor kid tonight. I get that it sucked that she and Santana were...doing stuff in her bedroom, but they both apologized. There was no need to make her feel so unwelcome. It wasn't fair to her, and it wasn't fair to Santana," Quinn states angrily, scrubbing the dish in her hands a lot harder than necessary.

"I know, and I'm sorry," Brittany responds softly.

"It's not me you have to apologise to! Trust me, I hated that Santana had her in her bedroom, but that's in the past now," Quinn rants. "Santana needs to be able to trust us, don't you realise how big a deal it is for her to bring someone home?! And then you act like a child who's sulking!"

"I know, Quinn! Jeez, quit lecturing me like I'm a kid," Brittany bites back.

"I'll treat you like a kid if you act like one." Brittany watches warily as Quinn dumps the dish back into the sink, a hazel coloured glare being thrown in her direction as Quinn storms out of the kitchen. Brittany groans, she's managed to piss of both Santana and Quinn. Great. Just great.

0-00-0

Brittany groans in frustration as she yanks her blanket tighter around her body, glaring at the actors on the tv screen as though this is all their fault. She really doesn't understand why she has to be the one to sleep on the couch. Quinn is the one with the problem, not her. Sure, she was an ass but she apologized, what else can she do? It's not as if she has a time machine hidden in the basement, she can't go back in time and change what happened. Sighing softly, Brittany grabs the remote and channel surfs until she finds something that doesn't seem completely boring. She stares at the screen as two hot surgeons make out in a hospital on call room, a tanned brunette and blue eyed, blonde woman. Her mind jumps straight to Santana, and her stomach lurches. She may only be sixteen, going on seventeen, but she looks like a woman...she kisses like a woman. Every night, when she's laying next to Quinn, Brittany is thinking of Santana. When she's making love to Quinn, and her hands are all over her wife's body, her mind is full of thoughts of Santana. When Quinn breathlessly moans her name, she hears Santana's voice. When Quinn's hands are buried in her hair, she feels Santana.

"This is so wrong," she murmurs to herself as she reaches for the bottle of beer that sits on the coffee table. Her sixth, or is that seventh, beer of the night. Everyone else had gone to bed a couple of hours ago, yet she's still wide awake. Her mind won't let her fall asleep, it's too full of guilt and longing. Brittany drains the bottle and places it back on the table before laying down on the couch. She inwardly curses herself for getting herself into this situation, but Brittany really hates that Santana is even thinking about dating Mack. Brittany really doesn't think she'll be able to handle it if she has to see Mack in their home, especially after what she saw Mack doing to Santana. With a deep groan, Brittany forces the thought out of her head. She's so ashamed of herself when she feels a tell tale tingling in her crotch, she shouldn't be thinking about a sixteen year old girl in such a way. She closes her eyes and prays for sleep to take over. She needs this day to end.

_Santana hovers over her, her dark eyes gazing deeply into her blue ones as they study each other. Santana's plump lower lip is caught in her teeth, a look of hesitation crossing her beautiful pictures. Brittany sighs contentedly as she gazes up at Santana, her hands firmly planted on the teenagers hips. She loves watching Santana, taking in every inch of her skin. She almost looks too beautiful to be real, and Brittany can't believe her luck. Santana lowers her body against Brittany, and she can feel her warm skin against her, can feel her soft curves and toned abs beneath soft, smooth skin._

_"You're so beautiful," Santana whispers to her, her tone filled with a tenderness that Brittany hasn't heard from her before. _

_"I was just about to say the same to you," Brittany responds softly. "So beautiful."_

_"We have to be quiet. Quinn is asleep," Santana murmurs, her index finger gently trailing along Brittany's jawline. "We don't want to wake her up, it'll ruin everything." Santana's finger leaves Brittany's face and is replaced by warm, wet lips as Santana slowly leaves a trail of soft, tender kisses down to Brittany's neck. Brittany's breath catches in her throat, and she hands slide around to Santana's ass, while Santana shifts on top of her. Her young, inexperienced hands find purchase in Brittany's silky hair as she brings her mouth up to meet Brittany's, kissing her languidly. Brittany lifts her knee and presses it against Santana's crotch, Santana gasping into her mouth._

_"I wish I was older, I wish I had found you first," Santana whimpers, and it's then that Brittany realizes that Santana's lips taste salty. Tears. "I wish we could be together. I wish we could hold hands in the street, and I wish that we could do it without hurting Quinn."_

_"I know," Brittany murmurs. "But someone is going to get hurt. Nobody can get out of this without having their heart broken. We still have tonight, though. We still have each other right now," Brittany whispers._

_"I guess we need to make the most of it then," Santana mumbles against her lips, her hands trailing down Brittany's body. Lithe fingers dance closer to their target, teasing and moving achingly slow._

_"Touch me, Santana." There's no response. "Santana?" _

_"Brittany?"_

_"Santana? Don't leave. Please, I want this. I want you."_

"Brittany?" Brittany can't bring herself to open her eyes. Opening her eyes would mean accepting that it was a dream...accepting that she can't have her. "Brittany?" A warm hand touches her cheek, and she knows who it belongs to immediately. "Brittany, you were dreaming." Brittany forces her eyes open to find Santana standing over her, a look of concern on her pretty face and her hair dishevelled from sleep. "Were you..." Santana hesitates for a moment, "were you dreaming about me?"

_**To be continued...**_

_**Once again, a much shorter chapter than I'd have liked but real life is really taking over at the moment. I hope you guys can understand. Please review.**_


	21. Chapter 21

_**I do not own Glee or any of the original characters, It all belongs to RIB and Fox. Any characters you don't recognise are my own creations.**_

_**Thank you so much for all of the feedback for this story so far, you guys keep me so motivated and I appreciate it a whole lot!**_

_**This chapter is short, but it's all that I can manage right now. Real life is taking over but I hope to get longer chapters out soon. Thank you, in advance, for your patience.**_

_**R&R please.**_

Chapter 21

Santana stares down at Brittany, her brow furrowing in confusion. She had heard Brittany saying her name...she's sure of it. Brittany looks dazed and half asleep, and she's gazing up at Santana as though she is unsure of who and where she is. Sighing softly, Santana perches on the edge of the coffee table and rests her elbows on her knees as she silently watches Brittany. She can't help but think about how adorable Brittany looks when she's just woken up. The cute, sleepy bewilderment on her face and her mussed hair makes Santana smile. What doesn't make her smile is the guilt that floods Brittany's stunning blue eyes.

"You didn't answer my question," Santana eventually murmurs, growing bored with the awkward silence.

"What question?" Brittany asks quietly, staring at her hands as she picks her fingernail and avoids making eye contact with Santana.

"I heard you say my name," Santana tells her. "Where you dreaming about me?"

"I was dreaming about all of us...our family," Brittany lies. She feels a twinge of guilt in her gut, it was all too easy for her to lie to Santana's face like that. Just like she has been lying to Quinn for all this time. "Just, you know, us all hanging out," Brittany adds softly. She can tell by looking at Santana that the teenager doesn't believe her. Not one little bit. "What are you doing up at..." Brittany glances at her cell phone, "two in the morning?" she asks, attempting to divert the attention away from her saying Santana's name in her sleep.

"I couldn't sleep," Santana shrugs. "Are you just gonna lie to me, yeah?" Brittany's gaze snaps up to Santana, and she opens her mouth to speak but closes her mouth a moment later. "I know you're lying," Santana murmurs, a flash of annoyance crossing her features.

"Santana, just go to bed," Brittany sighs. She rolls her eyes when Santana doesn't move, even though it doesn't surprise her at all. "Look, San, it's late. Can we just talk in the morning?" Brittany pleads, her eyes giving away how desperate she is to not talk about it right now.

"Fine," Santana snaps. "Not talking about things is your specialty, why should I expect anything different now." Brittany watches, defeated, as Santana storms out of the living room and up the stairs. Sighing, Brittany leans slumps back, sinking into the couch cushions and rubbing her temples. For a second, she had thought she had gotten away with it but, of course, Santana knew she was lying. It's not a hard conclusion to come to, lying is all they have done recently.

"Fuck," she murmurs. Brittany feels completely uncomfortable. She shouldn't be having those kind of dreams about the sixteen year old that she and her wife adopted. It makes her feel sick yet, at the same time, it intrigues her. Brittany has never before felt such a strong attraction towards someone. Even Quinn. Brittany groans, Quinn doesn't deserve this. Quinn deserves to be married to someone who only wants to be with her. She doesn't deserve to be married to a woman who has already cheated on her with their adopted daughter, and is lusting after said girl. It's even worse because she'd be lying to herself if she said the dream hadn't turned her on. She doesn't think she has ever felt so aroused in such a long time. Leaning back, Brittany dips her fingers into the waistband of her pajama pants, her fingers ghosting downwards. No. She stops, and pulls her hand out of her pants. She can't do this. Not to thoughts of Santana. No, she needs to think about something else. Suddenly, Brittany stands up and grabs her pillow. She heads upstairs, hesitating in the hallway when she hears Santana moving around in her bedroom. Brittany, against her better judgement, lightly raps her knuckles against the teenager's bedroom door.

"Yeah?" Brittany blows a puff of air out through her mouth as she opens the door. Santana is sitting on the edge of her bed, dressed only in a pair of women's boxers and a tank top. "It's late," Brittany states, "you should try and get some sleep."

"Noted," Santana responds dryly. Brittany bites down on her bottom lip, hating herself for how sad Santana looks.

"Okay, well...goodnight," Brittany murmurs.

"Night." Realizing that the curt reply is all she's going to get, Brittany sighs softly and pulls Santana's door closed, wishing things didn't have to be so shit between them. Brittany checks on Rachel, finding the girl sprawled out and fast asleep, before heading to her own bedroom. She stands in the doorway and gazes at her wife, guilt eating away at her as she takes in her peaceful expression. Pulling her pajama pants and sweatshirt off, she closes the door and dumps her clothes in the hamper. Brittany crawls onto the bed and straddles Quinn's waist, laying gentle kisses along her wife's jawline. "Quinn, wake up," she quietly sing songs. "C'mon, baby." Quinn stirs and lets out a soft moan, her hazel eyes slowly flickering open.

"Britt? What are you doing?" Quinn's voice is scratchy and thick with sleep.

"I'm so sorry about how I acted earlier," Brittany murmurs. "I know I disappointed you, but I want to make it up to you. I was just so worried about Santana," she explains, her gut twisting with guilt as she, once again, twists the truth. "I hate the thought of her getting hurt and, after catching her with Mack, I'm scared that she's moving too fast." Quinn smiles adoringly up at her wife and places her hands on Brittany's hips.

"I love that you're so protective of her and Rachel," Quinn whispers. "I'm still upset with you, but I understand why you were so weird with Mack."

"You do?" Brittany knows for a fact that Quinn does not understand. Not even a little bit.

"Of course, you're an amazing mom, Brittany. Moms worry about their kids." Brittany's insides twist at her wife's words, she's everything but an amazing mom. At least to Santana, anway. "C'mere," Quinn smirks, pulling Brittany closer and placing a searing kiss on her lips. Quinn's fingers tug at Brittany's panties, her hazel eyes clouding over with lust when she feels how wet Brittany is, assuming that she did that. The kiss becomes frantic as they tug at each other's clothes, both women desperate to remove each item. Their soft skin together. Quinn looks so beautiful and sexy beneath Brittany, it's just a pity that Quinn isn't the person Brittany is thinking about.

0-00-0

Santana's throat feels tight, and tears sting the corners of her eyes as she leans against her bedroom door. Brittany had been dreaming about her, and only her, she's sure of it, and now Brittany is with Quinn and they're having...Santana can't even finish the thought as her stomach lurches. She rushes over to the waste basket in the corner of her bedroom and empties her stomach into it. She can hear everything that's going on in the next room, and it makes her heart ache. It's just yet another giant reminder that Brittany is married to Quinn, and Santana can't have her. No matter how much she tries to get over that, she can't. Santana forces herself up from her knees and grabs the glass of water that sits on her bedside table. Gulping down the whole glass, and using the back of her hand to wipe her mouth, she puts the glass down and crosses her bedroom. She pulls on a hooded sweatshirt and a pair of sweatpants before opening her bedroom door as quietly as she can.

"Britt..." Santana's face contorts when she hears Quinn's breathy moan, and she chokes back a sob. She can't be here. She can't hear this. No, she has to get out of here. Santana walks as quietly, and quickly, as she can downstairs and looks around for the keys to the back door. She finds them pretty quickly and unlocks the door, slipping out as soon as it's open. Santana sneaks around to the side of the house and pulls a pack of cigarettes out of the pocket of her sweatpants, feeling herself relax ever so slightly as she inhales deeply.

"Shit," she sighs. Her life is so fucked up. What other teenager is in love with their adoptive mother? She grabs her cell phone out of her pocket and frantically types out a message to Mack,

_Are you awake? Can you come get me? - S. _Santana impatiently waits for a response, praying that Mack is awake. At least Mack isn't scared to touch her. At least Mack won't lie to her. At least Mack is single. At least Mack isn't fucking someone else right now. She's halfway through her second cigarette when her cell phone vibrates.

_Yeah, I'm awake. Are you okay? - Mack. _ Santana laughs dryly. Is she okay? No. She's far from fucking okay, but it's not like she can tell Mack what's bothering her. She can't tell anyone this.

_I just need to get out of here. Can we hang out? I can't stop thinking about you - S._ Chewing her bottom lip, Santana ignores the guilt that gnaws at her insides. She's lying. She's lying to Mack...just like Brittany lied to her. Santana hates what she has become, and she blames Brittany. No, that's not fair. This is just as much her fault as it is Brittany's.

_Be there in 10 - Mack._ Santana knows this isn't healthy. She also knows it isn't fair to Mack, treating her like a fuck buddy to help her ignore her feelings for Brittany. Especially since Mack has genuine feelings for her. She feels like she is turning into a horrible person, and she hates herself more and more with each passing moment. Yet, she can't bring herself to stop this from happening. Santana quietly walks around to the front of the house and down to the front of the drive, spotting Mack's car just as the other teenager pulls up next to the sidewalk.

"Thanks," Santana mutters as she climbs into the car, awkwardly leaning across to peck Mack's cheek.

"No problem," Mack murmurs. They don't speak again for a few moments, not until they are out of Santana's street. "So...you wanna talk about it? Something is definitely bothering you," Mack states softly, and Santana realizes that Mack sounds tired. After looking her up and down, Santana knows that Mack had been asleep.

"I'm sorry I woke you up," Santana mumbles, it's just something else that she can feel guilty about.

"You can wake me up anytime you like," Mack smiles genuinely. "My..uh..my parents are home so we can't really go to my place," she adds regretfully. Santana shrugs lightly and points to the left hand side, signalling that she wants Mack to turn down that street.

"The park is quiet..." Santana grunts, "there's a lot of trees." If Mack doesn't like the non romantic idea of parking amongst trees to do it, she doesn't show it. Santana wonders if Mack even realises that she's being used and, as guilty as she feels, it doesn't stop her from going through with it. Why should she be alone if Brittany isn't?

_**Yeah, short. Sorry, guys. Updates will be longer once RL stops being so hectic. A lot will be going down next chapter. Brittana's secret might not be so secret after all...**_

_**Please review.**_


	22. Chapter 22

_**I do not own Glee or any of the original characters, It all belongs to RIB and Fox. Any characters you don't recognise are my own creations.**_

_**Thank you very much for the great reviews for the last chapter, and thank you to everyone who has been patient and understanding. I appreciate it very much.**_

_**I know some people wanted to see a little more of Rachel, so there's some of her in this chapter, but I must warn you...this story is not about her so there won't be a lot of her in the story as a whole.**_

_**R&R please.**_

**Chapter 22**

After only four hours of sleep, Santana tiredly drags herself out of bed and stretches. It's barely light out, and it's Saturday, yet here she is getting out of bed. She couldn't have gotten any more sleep even if she had lay in bed for hours. Her dreams were plagued with images of Brittany. Santana had hoped that sleeping with Mack last night would have helped to keep her dreams free of Brittany at least for one night, but she was wrong. She feels awful. Guilt and exhaustion makes her feel sluggish, and Santana wishes she could just disappear somewhere on her own for a while. She knows she can't do that, though. Disappearing would cause Quinn and Rachel to worry which would make her feel even more guilty, she can't handle anymore guilt. Santana sleepily makes her way downstairs where Rachel and Brittany are watching cartoons in the living room.

"Morning," Santana grumbles, slumping down onto the armchair that she usually sits in. It keeps some space between herself and the others, something she needs to do to keep sane.

"Morning," Rachel mumbles, clearly still half asleep as she leans into Brittany's side, gazing blearily at the tv screen. Brittany doesn't say anything. She merely glances at Santana and offers her a smile that looks more like a grimace. Santana hates how much it hurts her. She wishes she could just be immune to Brittany, but she knows she never will be. It's like an addiction, but there's no rehabilitation. It's like a disease, but with no cure.

"Here you go, honey." Santana looks up in surprise when she hears Quinn's voice. She hadn't realized Quinn was awake. Quinn holds out a mug of steaming coffee for her to take.

"Thanks," Santana murmurs.

"Not a problem," Quinn smiles as she sits down next to Rachel and Brittany. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah. Thanks," Santana mumbles. Her gaze snaps to Brittany when she hears the almost silent scoff leave her lips, instantly realizing that Brittany knows she left the house last night. Shit. Santana had been convinced that Brittany and Quinn were too...distracted to hear her leaving, or to notice her absence at all. Apparently not. Does Quinn know as well? Santana glances over at Quinn, studying her features carefully and forcing a smile to her lips when Quinn meets her gaze.

"You okay, honey?" Quinn asks kindly, a warm smile on her face. Yeah..she definitely doesn't know about Santana's late night gallivanting. Santana nods, the forced smile still in place. She needs to be careful. If Quinn realizes that there is something bothering her, she will want to know what it is, and Santana doesn't want to lie to her even more than she already is. "We're gonna go out for some breakfast soon, do you want to come with us?" Quinn asks her. Santana shakes her head,

"nah, it's too early for me to even think about eating," Santana responds softly. "Thanks, though." She doesn't really want to go out and sit at a small table with Brittany..it's not a good idea for them to be in confined spaces together right now.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'll just do some homework or something," Santana shrugs. "I've got a lot."

"Hmm, yeah, it's a good idea to get it started, because you're not going anywhere with Mack until it's finished," Quinn informs her maternally. Santana has to use all of her inner strength to stop herself from rolling her eyes, she's still getting used to having someone be a mother to her. It makes her feel all warm and mushy on the inside, but it almost makes her feel like a terrible person. She finally has a mother, and all she wants to do is steal that mother's wife. Santana stays sitting in front of the tv as the others start to move around the house, getting ready to leave, and hoping that they leave soon. She just needs some space...some time to herself. Santana frowns when Brittany slumps down on the couch, showered and changed but not dressed to go out for breakfast.

"You're not going?" Santana questions her softly.

"Nope," Brittany responds, popping the p. She doesn't offer any sort of explanation, and Santana doesn't want to ask. It's very obvious that Brittany is pissed at her.

"Are you sure you don't want to come?" Quinn asks Santana as she walks back into the room, fully dressed and ready to go.

"I'm sure," Santana replies quietly, nodding.

"Okay, well we'll bring some food back for you guys," Quinn tells both of them. "Make sure you get some of that homework done," she adds firmly, her eyes narrowing playfully as she points at Santana. Santana rolls her eyes and chuckles lightly,

"Yes, ma'am."

0-00-0

Their girls may have been with them for a while now, but Quinn can't stop the smile that tugs at her lips when Rachel slips her small hand into hers. She doesn't think it will ever get old. Not only does Rachel accept them as her parents, but she trusts them as well. There doesn't seem to be an ounce of doubt inside her young mind, and Quinn adores that. Rachel has had no reason to ever trust an adult before, but she naturally trusted and began to love Quinn and Brittany. And they love her too. They love Santana and Rachel with all of their hearts, and they won't ever allow anyone to hurt either of them again. As they walk towards park after eating breakfast at a small cafe nearby, Quinn muses about how different she was when she was Rachel's age. At ten years old, Quinn had tried to pretend that she was too old and cool to play at the park. Her older cousins had always acted superior and, like most kids, she had been desperate to impress them. Rachel, however, has no issues with admitting that she still likes to go to the park, and Santana would never even dream of making fun of her little sister in any capacity. Quinn is so, so pleased that Rachel is able to just enjoy being a kid. Rachel no longer has to worry about adults turning on her, or hurting her beloved big sister. She's safe now.

"Oh." Quinn looks down at Rachel when the girl suddenly halts in her track, her eyes wide and nervous.

"Are you okay, baby girl?" Quinn asks her in concern.

"There's people on the swings," Rachel all but whispers, a slight frown pulling at her pretty features. Quinn looks across at the swings, her brow furrowing,

"There's still one free, sweetheart," Quinn tells her. "You can go on that one." Today is the first time that other kids have been at the park whilst they've been there, and Quinn realizes that Rachel is nervous to play when other kids are there. "C'mon, I'll come with you," Quinn states warmly, even though she usually sits on the bench and just watches Rachel play.

"Really?" Rachel looks up at Quinn, surprised, as though she can't quite believe that Quinn would happily be there for her.

"Of course," Quinn nods. "I can push you if you like?" she offers. "My mom used to do that all the time for me," she adds with a warm smile. Quinn squeezes Rachel's hand reassuringly and jerks her head in the direction of the swings with an encouraging smile. "C'mon...you know you want to," she says playfully.

"Okay," Rachel murmurs, her little brows furrowed and her bottom lip caught between her teeth. "You'll stay right next to me?" she asks uncertainly.

"Yep," Quinn nods seriously. "You couldn't get rid of me even if you tried," Quinn promises. Rachel beams up at her and tightens her grip around Quinn's hand, her eyes filling with determination as they start walking across to the swings. Rachel feels like she can do anything if she has Quinn by her side. "Go on, baby girl," Quinn murmurs, gently pushing Rachel towards the only free swing and moving to stand behind it. She watches as Rachel nervously avoids eye contact with the other kids and daintily sits down on the swing. "You ready?" Quinn asks her softly, leaning down to kiss the top of Rachel's head.

"Uh huh," Rachel murmurs, gripping onto the chains of the swings so tightly that her knuckles are a glowing white. Quinn gently pulls the swing back, surprised by how light Rachel is, and lets go. She places her hand on Rachel's lower back and pushes her higher, smiling tenderly at the grin on Rachel's face. Seeing her smile makes Quinn's heart swell. That's all she ever wants, to see Rachel and Santana smiling. She wants them to be happy.

0-00-0

Santana groans and lets her head drop down onto the kitchen table. She hates math. Like, really hates math. If she had the choice of doing math homework and fighting a fire breathing dragon, she'd choose the dragon. Every single time. What's even worse than doing her math homework is that Brittany has been ignoring her since Quinn and Rachel left, and that just fucking kills her. Hell, she'd rather have a full day of math than be ignored by Brittany for even just a few moments. Sighing loudly, Santana slams her math closed and slides it away from her, glaring at it as though it has just insulted her. She can't concentrate when she knows that Brittany is mad at her. Santana pushes her chair backwards and stands up, deciding that she needs to confront Brittany. She can't stand this stupid fucking silent treatment! She makes her way down to the basement, knowing there is nowhere else in the house that Brittany would spend her mornings. Brittany has music blaring out of a boom box, and Santana turns it off, announcing her presence in the basement.

"I was listening to that," Brittany grumbles. "I need to practice."

"No, you don't," Santana retorts. "You practice all the time, you're already perfect," she states softly. Santana enjoys watching the tips of Brittany's ears and her cheeks turn pink, she loves being able to make her blush.

"I always need to practice. Everyone needs to practice to maintain the level they're at," Brittany mutters. "What are you doing down here? Don't you have homework? I'm sure it'd be easier for you to finish it and go out at a reasonable hour instead of sneaking out to fuck your little girlfriend." Santana is taken aback by Brittany's hostility, and she can't hide it. Blinking back tears, Santana stares down at the floor, staying silent for a few moments while she composes herself.

"You don't know that we did anything," she finally whispers, and Brittany scoffs.

"You showered as soon as you came back. I was still awake," Brittany informs her. "Did you enjoy yourself?" she asks scathingly.

"I could ask you the same thing!" Santana snaps. "I'm surprised you even noticed I was gone. I'd ask you if you knew how thin the walls are, but you wanted me to hear that, didn't you?" Brittany's silence is all the answer Santana needs and she laughs dryly. "What...you're so jealous of Mack that you had to try and get some sort of revenge on me?"

"It...it wasn't like that," Brittany replies weakly. "I just..." she groans loudly, scrubbing her face with her hands. "I couldn't stop thinking about you!" she yells. She's furious. Furious with Santana for calling her out on her shit, and furious with herself for having these damn feelings. "I had to try and get you out of my head! This isn't right!" she screams. Santana takes a step backwards, shocked at the anger billowing from Brittany. "Shit..." Brittany murmurs, her anger draining away as quickly as it had arrived. "I'm sorry...I didn't mean to scare you. I'm just...I'm frustrated."

"You didn't scare me," Santana weakly lies.

"Yes I did." Brittany slumps against the wall with a sigh. "Everything I do lately is wrong. I'm ruining everything." Santana feels her heart break, and she steps forward, her hands resting on Brittany's hips.

"No, you're not," Santana murmurs. "This is all so beyond fucked up, but it's not your fault. It's not my fault, either." Santana gazes deep into Brittany's blue eyes. "Neither of us asked to feel like this, it's out of our control," she sighs. "And I...I'm falling for you, Brittany," she whispers. "I wish I wasn't, but I am. I can't help it... you're all that I think about. Even when I'm with Mack, I wish I was with you."

"I feel the same," Brittany murmurs, her eyes filling with tears and a huge lump forming in her throat. "I love my wife. She's kind and beautiful, and she's an amazing mother. I want nothing more to only love her, and want her. But I can't," Brittany chokes back a sob. "Even when I'm in bed with her, or kissing her, or sitting next to her...I wish it was you! She doesn't deserve this. Quinn doesn't deserve to be betrayed like this, but I'm falling for you, Santana! I'm falling so hard and it scares the shit out of me." Santana automatically pulls Brittany into her arms, holding her tightly and doing her best to comfort her. "I feel so safe in your arms," Brittany mumbles, her voice muffled against Santana's sweater. "Isn't that ridiculous?" she asks, pulling back to gaze at Santana. "I'm supposed to making you feel safe, yet it's the other way around."

"You look so beautiful," Santana whispers, causing Brittany to shyly smile. Their eyes look as the lean closer and closer to each other. Their lips touch, a searing yet somehow gentle kiss. Both of them are lost in the perfection of it, and all they can think of is how good this feels. Their arms tighten around each other, their surroundings completely invisible to them. A noise causes them to jump apart, and they stare at the other person in the basement, their eyes wide and full of panic.

"What the fuck?!"

_**To be continued...Please review. Next chapter will be up next Friday.**_


	23. Chapter 23

_**I do not own Glee or any of the original characters, It all belongs to RIB and Fox. Any characters you don't recognise are my own creations.**_

_**A/N **__**- Please do not review my other stories just to tell me to update this one. I did everything I could to let everyone know that there wouldn't be an update for a while.**_

_**Thank you to everyone who understood that real life has to come first, your support is the only thing that keeps me on this site. :)**_

_**This would have been posted last night if it wasn't for the power outage due to bad weather, hope it is worth the extra wait.**_

_**R&R please.**_

_**Chapter 23**_

"Dad..."

"What the hell is going on?!" Bill stares at his daughter. A myriad of emotions flicker in his light blue eyes; shock, confusion, devastation, anger and, worst of all, disappointment. Brittany can't even bear to look her father in the eyes, she doesn't want to see all of those things again. Her father has never looked at her like this before, and it kills her. Brittany can feel Santana's gaze on her, and she knows that the panicking teenager is desperately seeking for her to fix this. The truth is, Brittany doesn't think she can fix this. No matter how much she wants to. Her father had caught them red handed, there's no way to get out of this one. She hears Santana's breath hitch, followed by a sniffle. Santana is crying, and Brittany wants so badly to help her, but she's scared she will make the situation worse. Brittany doesn't think it's a good idea to even look at Santana right now, never mind touch her. She meets her father's gaze again, and her eyes flood with terrified tears. Her dad is the person she admires the most in this world, and he is looking at her as though she is the scum of the earth. Maybe she is. She sure as hell feel like she is.

"Dad, I..."

"No," Bill cuts Brittany off. "I don't want to hear it, Brittany," he snaps.

"I..."

"No!" Billy's furious roar causes both Brittany and Santana to jump, and a scared sob slips from Santana's lips. Brittany watches as her father's eyes slide over to Santana, and she spots guilt inside those blue orbs. As furious as Bill is, he doesn't want to scare the girl.

"Go to your bedroom, Santana." Santana's red rimmed eyes snap up to gaze at Bill, and her features betray her surprise. She had been convinced that he would send her away, that she'd be ripped away from Rachel and sent to some group home again. Bill must read this on her face as his gaze softens ever so slightly. "This is your home. None of this is even a little okay, but this is your home." A sob bubbles from Santana, and she is unable to hold his disappointed gaze any longer. "Go to your bedroom." Brittany watches as Santana all but sprints from the basement, taking the steps two at a time as though scared that Bill may change his mind.

"Thank you." Bill's anger flares when he hears his daughter's soft murmur. He turns his furious gaze to Brittany,

"I did not do that for you," he snaps. "I did that for Santana. The sixteen year old child that you swore to protect!" Brittany flinches, hearing her father call Santana a child causes her stomach to violently lurch. Her legs feel weak and they are no longer unable to support her. She falls to her knees. Sobs wrack her body, and Brittany hiccups as tears flow freely from her blue eyes. As he watches Brittany fall apart before him, Bill wants nothing more than to hold her and promise his daughter that everything will be okay. But it won't be, not unless this stops right now. Even then, things will never be the same. No matter how much he tries, Bill knows he will never see Brittany in the same light ever again.

"I'm sorry," Brittany whimpers. "I tried. I tried so hard."

"You didn't try hard enough," Bill states, his voice eerily calm. "You should have put a stop to this straight away. You are Santana and Rachel's guardian. You are Quinn's wife."

"Quinn..." Brittany's blood runs cold. Quinn. She hadn't even thought of Quinn since her father caught her and Santana. That, she realises, makes all of this even worse. Quinn is her wife, but her only concern when they were caught was Santana.

"This would destroy her," Bill seriously says. "This would break her heart. She doesn't deserve that." Brittany nods, her father is right. "Put a stop to this because you might not be so lucky next time, it could be Quinn that walks in on you. Brittany looks at her father, shock evident in her eyes. He's not going to tell Quinn. "This shouldn't have happened."

"I tried to stay away from her, I did," Brittany sniffles loudly. "It was so hard. So, so hard." Bill's eyes widen slightly at the outburst and realisation floods his features.

"Do you...do you have feelings for her?" he asks in a low voice, Brittany barely hearing his words. Brittany looks away, fresh tears leaking from her crystal blue eyes. "Oh my god, you do." She doesn't look at her father, her gaze trained on her feet. "I don't believe this," Bill murmurs, scrubbing his face with his hand. "How could you do this, Brittany?"

"It's not like I wanted this to happen!" Brittany explodes. "I didn't plan this," her voice softens, "it just happened."

"You didn't fight hard enough to stop this," Bill grinds out. "You should have put a stop to this before it even happened," he lectures. "You are thirty years old...she's just a child."

"It's not illegal. She's sixteen." Bill's blood runs cold, and he turns to face his oldest daughter with fire in his eyes.

"Brittany," he begins, his voice dangerously low. "Please tell me you haven't..."

"No!" Brittany interrupts. "No, we haven't."

"Good. That's good, because you would be in serious trouble with the law," Bill states, and Brittany cringes at the disgust on his features. "It doesn't matter that she's sixteen. You are, in the eyes of the law, her parent...an authority figure. If this doesn't end now, you could lose everything. Rachel and Santana would be taken from you and Quinn. You would lose Quinn, and land yourself in a shit load of trouble if this ever got out," he explains seriously, his voice strained. This isn't a conversation he ever imagined he would need to have with his child. As he takes in his daughter's heartbroken features, all be wants to do is hold her, but his overwhelming disappointment stops him.

"Nobody would ever find out," Brittany murmurs, tears pouring from her red rimmed, blue eyes.

"I did." Brittany falters when she hears those two simple words. "This needs to stop, and it needs to stop now. You know this is wrong."

"I know, but..."

"No buts, Brittany. It stops now. For everyone's sakes."

0-00-0

This is it. This is what will kill her, Brittany is convinced of that. This family dinner, that causes her heart to erratically thump against her rib cage, is what will be the end of her. She can't bring herself to look at her father or Quinn, and she's too scared to look in Santana's direction. Brittany doesn't know what she will see inside those dark eyes. That only leaves Rachel, but Rachel is much more interested in scarfing her food down as quickly as she can. Something about a Streisand interview on television, or something. Sighing, Brittany uses her fork to push her food around her plate, wishing she was anywhere in the world but here right now. It had only been a couple of hours since the incident in the basement and, even though he said he wouldn't, Brittany is terrified that her father will tell Quinn about what he saw. It's probably a good thing that her mother is at some bingo evening tonight, she would notice that something is bothering Bill immediately.

"Can I be excused?" Brittany is dragged from her thoughts by Santana's abrupt question, and she notices that Quinn shoots her a small frown.

"You've barely touched your food, honey," Quinn states with concern. "Is everything okay?" Brittany, for the first time in a few hours, gazes over at Santana. For a brief second, their eyes lock and it's like the whole world stops. Two hearts hammering, and two souls aching. Bill clears his throat, and Brittany guiltily drops her gaze.

"You know, I'm not feeling so hot," Santana murmurs. "I think I just need to go lie down."

"I'm sorry you're not feeling well," Quinn says with a sympathetic pout. "Go on upstairs, I'll come and check on you later." Quinn frowns as Santana all but runs out of the dining room, but Santana doesn't see it. She's far too focused on rushing up the stairs in record time. Throwing the bathroom door open, Santana makes it to the toilet just in time and she violently empties her stomach into the bowl. Tears drip freely from her eyes as she leans over the toilet, her chest heaving. She can't do this. She just can't do this anymore. She retches again before sliding down onto her butt, her forehead resting against the cold porcelain. Her chest feels tight, and she can barely breathe. Santana's eyes become unfocused, and her world slips into darkness.

_"What the fuck is this?!" He towers over her, brandishing a the magazine she had stolen from one of her foster brothers a few weeks back. His wife hovers behind him, and she wears the same hateful sneer that he does. Santana lowers her gaze, refusing to make eye contact with either of them. "You like the sluts in this, huh?" he spits. "I knew you were a fucked up little bitch, but I didn't know you were that bad." Tears sting the corners of her eyes, and she sets her jaw, begging her body not to betray her fear. "I'm talking to you!" Santana's head snaps to the side when his hard hand connects with her cheek, and she can taste blood. Staying silent isn't helping her._

_"I'm sorry," Santana whimpers. "I was just looking at them, it doesn't mean anything."_

_"LIAR!" She is thrown on to the bed. Santana uses all of her strength to stop him from turning her over onto her stomach. "Stop struggling, you little cunt. You earned this whipping," he snarls at her. She is manhandled and forced onto her stomach, terrified cries ripping from her throat. Santana doesn't stop struggling, even after he has his wife help him, but it's no use. She's no match for both of them. She recognises the sound of his belt being bulled from his jeans, and her chest tightens._

_"Please," she begs tearfully. "I'm sorry." A sob bubbles from her lips, and she screams as the belt lashes down._

_"You will be."_

"Come on, up you get." Santana shudders as a pair of arms wrap around her, feeling herself being gently pulled upwards as though she doesn't weigh a thing. "It's okay, you're okay. Don't cry." Santana blinks away the tears that cling to her thick eyelashes, and she fearfully gazes up at Bill. "Let's get you into your bedroom," he mutters gruffly. Bill scoops Santana into his arms and carries her, bridal style, out of the bathroom. Santana doesn't fight him, she merely lays her head on his shoulder and allows herself to be taken to her bedroom. It surprises Santana when she realises just how safe she feels in her arms, her trust in men had been completely broken when she was in the system. Is it because he's Brittany's father? Probably.

"I'm sorry," she murmurs, swallowing thickly as Bill lays her down on her bed. Bill sighs softly, and sits down on the edge of the bed. His sky blue eyes don't hold a trace of the anger or disappointment they had held earlier. Instead, there's only sadness.

"I know," Bill whispers. Santana bites down on her bottom lip as she gazes at the older man, feeling guilty for forcing this secret on him. "This is a huge mess," he adds softly. Santana opens her mouth to speak, but falters when Bill holds his hand up. "I don't blame you," he mutters, surprising Santana. His next statement surprises her even more, "I don't blame Brittany either." Santana's nose wrinkles with confusion, and she narrows her dark eyes ever so slightly.

"You don't blame either of us?" she questions softly.

"I don't like what I walked in on, not one little bit," Bill tells her, "but, no, I don't think it's anyone's fault per se. I'm mad and disappointment, and I'm so very worried, but I know my daughter." He speaks softly and quietly, ensuring he isn't overheard. "I know that this, whatever this is, hasn't been taken lightly. I know that you both must have struggled with this, and that you lost the battle with your feelings today. People can't be blamed for how they feel, nobody can help how they feel."

"We did," Santana whispers. "We tried so, so hard." Bill nods, placing his hand on Santana's knee and squeezing gently.

"I know," he states lowly. "That being said, it ends now," Bill adds, his tone firm. "No matter how old you are, it can't happen, and I think both of you already know that." Santana nods. "Not in these circumstances, not in this lifetime." Bill searches Santana's devastatingly sad eyes for signs of understanding. "Brittany is your adopted mother, and you are her adopted daughter. You, Brittany, Quinn, and Rachel are a family. My family. It'll take time, but you and Brittany will get over each other. You will." Santana studies the man, realising that he seems to be trying to convince himself just as much as her. "You need to act as a family. Try, and it will happen." Santana nods, her heart aching and her soul yearning for Brittany. "For me?" Santana swallows,

"Okay," she whispers, her voice thick with emotion.

"Okay," Bill echoes her words. He sighs again, "you should rest. The others will be wondering why I'm taking so long." He stands up and starts towards the bedroom door.

"Bill?" He turns around,

"yeah?"

"Can you not tell them that I fainted?" Santana quietly requests. "It only happened because of, well...today," she adds timidly.

"Yeah, all this stress and pain isn't good on your body," he murmurs. "It's not good for any of us." Santana feels yet another pang of guilt. "I won't tell them."

"Thank you."

"Yeah," Bill hesitates at the door for a moment, "remember what I said."

"I will."

0-00-0

Brittany stumbles downstairs, her eyelids heavy as she forces them to stay open. She is so desperately tired, and wants to go back to bed, but she would see Santana every time she closed eyes. Brittany can't risk dreaming about her while in bed with Quinn. What if she said Santana's name in her sleep again? She makes her way into the kitchen, and makes herself some instant coffee, the good stuff takes too long to make. Brittany yawns as she leans against the counter, sleepily watching as the clock strikes three. Her mind wanders to Santana, as it does on a regular basis, and she frowns. Why does this have to happen to her? To either of them? They could have been so happy together, the four of them, as a family. No, Brittany shakes her head, she can't keep thinking about Santana. She needs to distract herself from this situation, from her heartbreak. Grabbing her coffee, Brittany makes her way down to the basement. She almost has a heart attack when she flips the light on.

"Santana!" Brittany gasps, "you scared the crap out of me!" she scolds, staring at the teenager who is sitting on the floor, her back against the wall.

"Sorry," Santana murmurs, picking at a loose thread on her sweatpants.

"What are you doing down here? It's three in the morning," Brittany informs her. She sits down on the bottom step and watches Santana carefully, noticing the dark circles underneath the girl's eyes.

"I..uh, this is your space," Santana states shyly. "I needed to be around somewhere that reminded me of you, but didn't make me think of Quinn." Santana grimaces, fighting against the large lump in her throat. "I can't take it anymore, Brittany," she whimpers. "I can't take the guilt. I can't take seeing Quinn every day, so maternal and loving. I can't look her in the eye anymore. I'm too scared to. I'm scared that she'll work out what's going on," Santana chokes out.

"It'll get better," Brittany states, but she doesn't believe her own words, how can she expect Santana to? "We'll try harder," Brittany swears.

"If we're already trying our hardest, how can we try harder?" There's no sarcasm or attitude in Santana's question. It's genuine, and it's so damn innocent. Brittany can't hold her intense gaze any longer, and her eyes focus on the floor.

"I don't know," Brittany whispers, tears welling her in her blue eyes. "I don't know," she repeats.

"I can't keep doing this," Santana murmurs, swiping at the tears that roll down her cheeks, "but, at the same time, I can't not keep doing this." Even with the distance between them, they can both feel each other's presence like a warm, thick blanket. "I love you," Santana whimpers, choking on a sob. "I love you so much that it kills me to not be with you." Santana places her hand over her own heart, her fingers grasping the soft cotton of her tee-shirt. "My heart aches for you, even when we're in the same room, because I'm not allowed to be with you," she cries desperately. "And it would hurt even if I was with you," Santana exclaims bitterly. "Because then I'd be the whore that helped break Quinn's heart."

"Hey!" Brittany places her coffee on the step and stands up, quickly closing the distance between them. "You're not a whore, don't call yourself that," Brittany scolds. She bends down in front of Santana and places her hands on the girl's knees. "You're not a whore," Brittany repeats.

"I feel like one," Santana whispers.

"Well, you're not." They gaze into each others' eyes, seeing all the pain and suffering that they both are attempting to deal with. Attempting, and failing. Santana is the first one to look away, she can't handle the intensity, and she jumps to her feet.

"I need to get out of here," Santana abruptly states.

"Can't you wait until morning? It's too late for a walk, San." Santana looks at Brittany again. She adores the way that nickname rolls so easily off of Brittany's tongue, and she loves how it sounds. It's almost as though it is helping her to heal from all the crap she has gone through.

"I'm not talking about a walk, Brittany," Santana states, her voice surprisingly calm. "I'm talking about leaving here, before I'm made to go back into the system," she adds.

"Santana, that won't happen. I pr..."

"Come with me," Santana cuts her off.

"What?" Brittany asks, shock written all over her features. Did Santana just ask what she thinks she did? If so, what the hell does she say to that? She doesn't even know.

"Come with me."

_**To be continued... Shorter than I would have liked, but I'll have another chapter posted at the beginning of January. **_

_**Please review. Happy Holidays!**_


	24. Chapter 24

_**I do not own Glee or any of the original characters, It all belongs to RIB and Fox. Any characters you don't recognise are my own creations.**_

_**Sorry for the long wait...**_

_**A/N - This chapter was emotionally draining to write so please, please don't focus on the word count. Thank you.**_

_**R&R please.**_

**Chapter 24**

Santana stares into Brittany's blue eyes, silently pleading with her to say yes. She needs this. She needs Brittany to say yes, because Santana doesn't think she'll be able to leave without her. She needs Brittany to come with her. Brittany drops her head and Santana feels fresh tears burn her raw eyes. At the absolute most, Brittany is thinking about it and if she needs to think about it, then she doesn't truly want to go with her. Santana's brows furrow as she picks a spot on the wall to stare it. The silence in the basement is deafening and Santana no longer wants to hear Brittany's response, but she knows she needs to. Santana doesn't speak, she has already pled her case. There's nothing more she can do.

"I can't." Brittany's voice is a mere whisper, and Santana's chest clenches painfully. She had done it. She had asked Brittany to be with her, and Brittany rejected her. Santana stifles a sob, tears freely pouring from her dark eyes. "I'm sorry," Brittany chokes out, her hands clasped in front of her heart. "I can't do it, Santana. I'm sorry, I just can't." Santana nods, her face contorting. She can't bring herself to speak, and she's not sure that she'd be able to even if she wanted to. "I care about you so much," Brittany brokenly whispers. "I do, I just... I can't leave my wife behind to run away with one of the girls I adopted with her." Santana flinches. "I just can't do it." Santana squeezes her eyes closed, willing the tears to stop falling. "I would only hurt you, anyway."

"You're hurting me now!" Santana explodes. "My heart aches every second that I'm around you! I would give up everything just to be with you! You let me think that you actually, but when push came to shove, you threw me under a bus!" Santana screams, hot, angry tears streaming down her face. "When it really mattered, you decided that it was better to make me look a terrible person instead of risking having someone think badly of you."

"Santana, I..."

"I'm not done!" Santana yells, cutting Brittany off. "You don't get to say that you care about me, and you don't get to act like you're worried about hurting me because you are already are!" Santana's heart pounds and her chest heaves with her heavy breaths as she stares at Brittany. "The worst fucking part of this is that I can't hate you, no matter how much I want to. I'm in love with you, and all I ever want is for you to hold me and love me back!"

"I do love you, Santana, but..."

"NO! I don't wanna hear anymore of your excuses," Santana snaps, a loud sob escaping her mouth.

"You need to lower your voice," Brittany pleads with her, shooting anxious glances towards the basement door.

"That's right," Santana chokes out, "my feelings aren't as important as keeping the secret." Santana turns away from Brittany, bitter sobs wracking her body. She needs to get out of here. She can't stay in this house a second later. She needs to get away from Brittany. Santana sprints up the basement door and rips the door open with all of her strength. She runs through the house and scrambles to find Quinn's keys. She's frantic. Where are they? Quinn always keeps them by the front door. She spots them on the floor, underneath the hook that they had fallen from, and she grabs them. Her hand shakes as she unlocks the door, and she can hear Brittany's footsteps behind her as she pulls the door open. Santana sprints out into the cold, urging her legs to move faster. She runs as fast as she can, not stopping even as she reaches the end of the street.

"Santana, stop!" Brittany yells from behind her, and Santana is jerked backwards as Brittany's hand wraps around her wrist. "Stop." Brittany bring both hands up to Santana's face, gently cradling the broken girl's face in her palms. "Stop," she whispers. Brittany briefly thinks about the fact that they are both in pajamas and barefoot, and she's desperate to get Santana back into the warm house. "Please." Santana struggles against Brittany, pushing the older woman away with surprising strength.

"Don't touch me!" Santana screams, "you don't get to touch me!" Santana takes a few unsteady steps backwards. Rage, that she always struggled with, builds inside her and she stares at Brittany with fire in her dark eyes. "Stay away from me," Santana orders. She watches as Brittany falters, hurt evident on her pale features. Her anger increases and now she's not only furious with Brittany, but with herself, too. She can see that she hurts Brittany just as much as Brittany hurts her.

"Santana," Brittany murmurs as she takes a step forward, not realising that this is the worst thing she could do right now. She attempts to touch Santana's arm, but Santana violently jerks out of the way.

"Do not touch me," Santana spits. "Leave me alone," she heavily breathes out.

"Honey..."

"Leave me alone!" Santana roars. Her fist shoots out and smashes through the passenger side window of the nearest car. She pulls her hand out, curiously studying her bloody hand. She can see the shards of glass that are imbedded in her flesh, and she the blood that pours from her wounds, but she can't feel it. She can't feel anything. Brittany's body reacts before her brain can even realise it and she steps forward, catching Santana as she falls. Brittany drops to her knees, holding Santana's limp body in her arms.

"Brittany?" Brittany's breath catches in her throat and her gaze whips up as her wife approaches. "Oh my god, what happened? Rachel said she heard Santana yelling and crying," Quinn rambles, zipping her hoodie up over the top of her pajamas. Quinn's eyes land on Santana's hand, "what the hell happened?"

"Call an ambulance," Brittany states, her voice sounding oddly detached. "There's a lot of blood, and she blacked out."

"Brittany..."

"Ambulance," Brittany snaps, cutting Quinn off. Quinn nods, turning on her heel as she rushes back to the house. Brittany's chest feels tight and she hushes Santana as the girl begins to come around. She has no idea how they are going to explain this one.

0-00-0

Quinn watches as Brittany paces back and forth in the small waiting room, her wife chewing on one of her fingernails and refusing to look in her direction. Brittany had barely said anything since Quinn and Rachel arrived at the hospital. She hadn't even drove with them, choosing to ride in the ambulance with Santana instead. She knows Brittany is hiding something from her, but she doesn't know why, nor does she have any idea of what it could be. Quinn feels Rachel snuggle closer to her and she tightens her arm around the young girl. Quinn is relieved that Rachel had come to get her rather than investigate herself. The sight that Quinn had been greeted with is not something she would ever want Rachel to see.

"When can we see her?" Rachel asks softly and Quinn gazes down at her. She can see the anxiety in Rachel's eyes and it causes her own anxiety to grow. Quinn is so worried about Santana, but she is also disappointed. She had thought that Santana had been getting better at controlling her anger, but tonight's incident is worse than any of the other incidents.

"I'm sure it will be soon, sweetheart," Quinn murmurs, forcing a reassuring smile to her lips. "They're cleaning her up and she needs to get some stitches, but she's okay," Quinn tells her, hoping she sounds as comforting as she is trying to.

"Why would she do that?" Rachel questions, looking at Quinn. The childhood innocence in her voice makes Quinn want to wrap her in a big blanket and shield her from the world.

"I don't know," Quinn honestly replies. "Maybe she'll tell us, but I don't want you asking her a bunch of questions about it," Quinn gently says. "She's had a hard night and she'll be tired. It's best to just give her a hug and tell her you love her." Rachel nods. She is desperate to ask her big sister why she did it, but Quinn doesn't think it's a good idea and Rachel trusts her.

"She just got angry," Brittany finally speaks. "You know what she's like, she..." Brittany stops herself. She had just been about to place all of the blame on Santana in an attempt to lower suspicion. Santana had been right, and she had just been about to do it again. Brittany turns away, tears stinging the corner of her eyes. She feels like the worst person on the planet.

"She what?" Brittany closes her eyes and inhales deeply, trying to think of an answer to give Rachel.

"I'm gonna see what the hold up is," Brittany states. "I'll be right back." Brittany leaves the waiting room before Quinn or Rachel can question her, breaking into a light jog when she feels her stomach lurch. Brittany bursts into the ladies' bathroom and all but throws herself into the nearest stall. She gags and vomits, emptying her stomach into the toilet. How has this happened? How has her life gotten so fucked up? She wishes she knew what to do, but no matter how hard she tries to find an answer, it never comes. Brittany moves to the sinks and splashes water on her face, staring at her pale reflection in the mirror. Brittany wishes she could rewind back to the first day that Santana and Rachel stayed with them, wishes she could change the past.

"Ma'am?" Brittany turns to face the nurse that is standing in the doorway. "I was just coming to find you and your wife," the nurse pauses, "are you okay?" Brittany forces herself to smile, although she is sure it looks more like a grimace to the nurse.

"It's been a long night," Brittany tells her. The nurse nods, smiling sympathetically. "How's Santana doing?"

"She's a little worn out and she has a lot of stitches, but she's okay. I can take you to her if you'd like?" Brittany falters, knowing she should go and get Quinn, but she really needs to talk to Santana on her own first.

"Okay," Brittany mumbles, and the smiling nurse gestures for her to follow. Brittany feels her heart quicken as she walks along the corridor and as she looks down, something catches her gaze. Brittany's stomach lurches again and she takes a deep breath, trying to calm herself. She hadn't realised she had Santana's blood on her hands.

"Here we are," the nurse stops outside Santana's hospital room. "She's sharing with another patient, but they're pretty much out of it so should have some privacy," the nurse adds. Brittany nods,

"thanks," she murmurs. Brittany can't quite bring herself to go inside yet, and she feels irrationally jealous of the nurse as she watches her walk away. She gets to leave the situation. Brittany shakes her head at her behaviour. This needs to be fixed, somehow, and here she is...avoiding it. Taking a deep breath to brace herself, Brittany pushes the hospital room door open and steps inside. She feels awful when she sees Santana. The teenager is sitting on the edge of the bed and dangling her legs over the edge, her hand and forearm heavily bandaged. It's Santana's posture, though, that really makes Brittany feel terrible. With her chin tucked down to her chest and her healthy arm wrapped around herself, Santana seems to look much younger than Brittany has ever seen her.

"Are you just gonna stand there or are you gonna come in?" Santana asks softly, and she lifts her head to gaze at Brittany with bloodshot eyes.

"I wasn't sure if you wanted anyone to come in," Brittany murmurs. "Quinn said you didn't want her to be in here with you while you were getting fixed up."

"The doctors don't wear worried expressions," Santana mutters, "they don't look at you with eyes filled with fear. Quinn does."

"She's worried about you," Brittany tells her quietly, slowly approaching the bed. "We both are." Santana scoffs, looking away from Brittany again. "You scared me," Brittany whispers. Santana doesn't respond. "Even before you put your hand through the window. If I hadn't have caught you, you would have kept running." It's not a question.

"I can't stay in that house anymore," Santana tells her, keeping her eyes trained on her bandaged arm. "I need to get away, at least for a little while."

"I need to know that you're safe," Brittany says seriously. "We all do. What if I stayed with my parents for a little while, I could tell Quinn that I need some space or something."

"More lies," Santana mutters darkly. "We just haven't lied enough recently, huh? No," Santana shakes her head, "everything in that house makes me think of you. I'm gonna talk to Judy, ask her if I can with her for a little while. She told me to go to her if I ever needed to." Brittany nods, her eyes sad. She doesn't like this at all, and she know Quinn will be upset, but this is better than Santana just running off. At least, if she's with Judy, she'll be safe.

"If that's what you want," Brittany states softly. Santana glances up at her, badly concealed pain in her dark eyes.

"None of this is what I want."

_**To be continued... See author's note at the beginning of the chapter. Please review.**_


	25. Chapter 25

_**I do not own Glee or any of the original characters, It all belongs to RIB and Fox. Any characters you don't recognise are my own creations.**_

_**This update comes a little later than I hoped, sorry.**_

_**Thanks to everyone who was kind enough to leave a review for the last chapter, you motivated me so, so much!**_

_**This will be updated every 10 days or so.**_

_**R&R please.**_

**Chapter 25**

"Santana? Santana, wake up." Santana groans lightly, covering her eyes with her arm as Judy pulls the curtains up. "Come on," Judy gently urges, "Quinn's here, and she'd like to speak to you." Santana freezes, panic coursing through her veins. Quinn wants to speak to her? "I'll make some fresh copy, we'll be in the kitchen when you're ready. Santana opens one eye and watches Judy leave the guest bedroom, feeling bad that she had dragged the kind, older woman into her mess. Santana forces herself to sit up, grimacing at the pain that shoots through her forearm when she puts weight on it. She really doesn't want to go downstairs. She's so scared that Quinn will be able to work out what the problem is, and Santana doesn't ever want to see the betrayal on Quinn's face. Quinn had become a mother to her, and all Santana has to offer her is lies and heartbreak.

It makes her feel sick to her stomach. Wincing, Santana pushes herself off the bed and looks around for a sweatshirt to throw on. She spots one that she recognises hanging on the back of the bedroom door, and her stomach plummets. It's Brittany's. Quinn had found it in their car and wrapped it around her on their way back from the hospital. She stares at the sweatshirt for a moment, as though waiting for it to do something. Shakily, she reaches out and pulls the sweatshirt off of the hook, hugging it close to her. It still smells like Brittany. Santana pulls it on and wraps her arms around herself, ignoring the throbbing pain in her arm. Brittany's scent is comforting, yet painful at the same time. She has never felt like this before. Santana makes her way downstairs, chewing on her bottom lip and wishing she could just run away. No. She Santana shakes her head, running away had only made things worse so far.

"Santana?" Santana lifts her gaze from the floor as she reaches the bottom of the staircase, finding Quinn waiting for her at the bottom. Quinn has her in her arms before she can even respond, and Santana can't help but sink into the maternal embrace. Strength and comfort radiates from Quinn as she holds Santana closing, Quinn praying that Santana would just open up to her. "How does your arm feel?" Quinn questions softly.

"It kills," Santana grumbles into Quinn's shoulder, unwilling to pull out of the hug just yet.

"Come on," Quinn softly states, keeping one arm around Santana as she leads the teenager into her mother's kitchen. "Sit down," she tells Santana. Judy smiles reassuringly at her daughter and hands her a bottle of painkillers. "Thank, mom." Quinn pops the lid and tips two tablets into her hand before filling a glass with water. "These will help," Quinn murmurs, placing the water on the table and handing Santana the tablets. She watches as Santana tips them into her mouth, draining the glass of water straight after.

"Thanks," Santana mumbles.

"Not a problem," Quinn smiles, "it's what I'm here for." Santana feels another stab of guilt. Quinn is so desperate to look after her and to be her mother. She smiles softly as Judy places a mug of coffee in front of her, silently thanking her.

"I got it," she hears Quinn say, and she watches as Quinn sits down opposite her with fresh bandages and anti infection cream in her hands. Judy takes the hint and hands Quinn a warm, wet cloth before making herself scarce. Santana doesn't say anything as Quinn silently takes her injured hand into hers, her touch gentle and maternal. Quinn carefully unwraps Santana's bandage and places it to one side. "You really did a number on yourself," Quinn remarks, but there is no judgement in her voice. Quinn inspects Santana's stitches, wincing slightly as she grabs the wet cloth.

"They look a little red," Santana quietly says. "Are they infected?" Quinn furrows her brow, carefully gazing at the stitches.

"I don't think so," Quinn replies, albeit uncertainly, "I think it's just because they're new, we'll keep an eye on them," Quinn tells her. She gently cleans the area around the stitches, being careful to hurt Santana any more than she has already hurt herself. "Just remember to use the cream the doctor gave us if you end up changing your bandages yourself at any point," Quinn instructs her.

"Why aren't you mad?" Santana asks, her voice low and wary. Quinn glances up at Santana as she reaches for the cream and fresh bandages, frowning ever so slightly.

"About what?" she asks lightly.

"About me putting my fist through a car window...about me staying here. You don't seem mad at all, and I don't understand it," Santana whispers. "Why aren't you mad?" she repeats. Quinn sighs softly, staying silent as she gently wraps the fresh bandage around Santana's hand and forearm. She places a soft kiss on top of the fresh bandage, and Santana finds herself blinking back tears. Her mother had used to do that when putting a Band-Aid on her scraped knees as a young child. Nobody had done that since then. Nobody had cared enough, until now.

"I don't seem mad, because I'm not," Quinn shrugs lightly. "I can see you hurting and struggling. That makes me sad, not mad," Quinn murmurs. "You're my daughter and I want to help you, but I don't think you want my help." Quinn's hazel eyes don't leave Santana's, and she studies the teenager. "I'm here," Quinn murmurs. "Whenever you want my help, or need it, I'm here. Whatever is going on inside that head of yours, you don't have to deal with it by yourself and, when you're ready, I will take you home. It doesn't matter if that's in two hours or two weeks. The minute you want to come home, I will come and get you," Quinn swears. "Until then, I will come here to spend some time with you. Rachel and Brittany are coming over later for dinner, but we won't smother you. We'll give you all the time you need." Santana bites down on her bottom lip, blinking back fresh tears as she nods.

"Thank you," Santana murmurs.

"Of course," Quinn nods. "We're your family, supporting you is what we do. Now, I need to run some errands and I was hoping for a little company," Quinn hints, not subtly at all. Santana smiles ever so slightly, she likes that Quinn doesn't want to pressure her. She just wants to spend some time with her and be there for her. "I could maybe spring for lunch, too."

"I need to shower first," Santana softly says.

"Take your time," Quinn smiles. "There's no rush."

0-00-0

She focuses only on striking and breathing. In and out, punching with her left and then with her right. Brittany glares at the punching bag, her gaze blurry due to the tears she fights to hold back. Beads of sweat collect on her brow, but she doesn't even notice. All Brittany can think about is Santana, and how Santana is no longer staying here. She blames herself. She had crossed a dangerous, dangerous line and she had chased the young girl away. Quinn would never forgive her if she found out, and neither would Rachel. She's down here trying to pull herself together, trying to get all of the tension out of her body, but it only seems to be making her feel worse. Every time she strike the bag, Brittany is reminded of Santana punching the car window and she hates herself even more. She had driven Santana to the point or, at the very least, she had helped Santana drive herself to that point.

"Brittany?" Rachel warily steps into the basement, nervously lingering at the top of the staircase. She doesn't like seeing Brittany look so worked up, she's usually so calm, and Rachel doesn't know what to do. "Brittany?" she tries again, shrinking backwards ever so slightly when Brittany whips around to look up at her.

"Sorry, honey," Brittany states softly, noticing that Rachel looks wary. "I didn't hear you come in, you okay?" Rachel nods, frowning as she studies her adopted mother. Brittany is soaked in sweat and her hair is sticking to her flushed face. "I got a little too involved in my work out," Brittany says with a forced smile.

"You didn't look like you were working out," Rachel retorts softly. "You looked like you were really mad about something," she adds. Brittany waves her off,

"nah, just a work out," Brittany smiles, her breathing laboured. "You need something?" she asks kindly. Rachel shrugs, fiddling with a loose thread on her pajama shirt.

"Quinn made me breakfast, but then she went to go see Santana. Is Santana not going to school today?" Rachel asks.

"Not today," Brittany murmurs. "She had a rough night. How come you're not dressed? We need to leave in like," she glances at her watch, "oh. Twenty minutes ago." Brittany sighs, "shit."

"I don't really feel well," Rachel tells her, and Brittany can immediately see that the girl is lying. "I feel...hot and...not well," Rachel lamely finishes. Brittany studies Rachel carefully, using her forearm to wipe the sweat from her forehead.

"Well, I guess you should go back to bed then, huh?" Brittany states, biting back a smile at the look of horror on Rachel's face. "Or you could go get settled on the sofa with a blanket," Brittany suggests. "I'll join you in a little bit, I just need to shower first." Rachel grins at her, nodding. "It sucks to be sick, huh?" Rachel nods. "Alright, go on. I'll be there soon." Brittany watches Rachel leave and lets out a small sigh. She's acting too weird around everyone, she knows that, and she needs to get a hold of herself before she gives anything away. Brittany slowly counts to ten in her head as she begins to wipe down her equipment, her chest feeling a little tighter than she'd like. She hadn't realised just how hard she had been working herself. Brittany sighs softly when she hears the basement door open again, "Rachel, you said you were sick. Go lay down," Brittany says without turning around.

"She's just grabbing a blanket." Brittany turns around to face her father, but she is unable to fully return his gaze.

"Sorry, I thought you were Rachel," Brittany murmurs, looking down at the damp towel in her hands.

"Yeah, I kinda figured that," Bill mumbles. "It's falling apart around you, huh?" Brittany scoffs,

"and what? You came to say I told you so?" Brittany asks, "well, congratulations, dad. You were right," Brittany snaps. Bill sighs softly,

"that's not why I came," Bill corrects her. "I heard about what happened last night, and I wanted to make sure you were holding it together." Brittany stares at her father in disbelief. Bill shakes his head, "you look like crap, Brittany. It's very obvious that something is wrong, and Quinn will start asking questions if you don't pull yourself together," he scolds.

"I'm trying, dad!" Brittany exclaims. "You didn't see what I saw last night, you didn't see what I did to her just by being around her." She sighs and scrubs her face with her hands. "I'm fucking destroying her and I'm terrified!" Bill takes a step towards his daughter and places his hand on her shoulder.

"You need to calm down," he states seriously. "This situation is awful, but it can still get worse. You need to pull yourself together, and fast. You need to pay attention. You're wrapped up in your head and Rachel is pretending to be sick just so she can get some of your attention. Until you get over Santana, you need to pretend that you are. For Quinn and Rachel's sake." Bill stares into Brittany's eyes, silently praying that she's taking this on board. "Go shower and pull yourself together," Bill tells her.

"What happens if I can't hold it together?" Brittany weakly questions.

"That's not an option."

0-00-0

Quinn gazes across the small store at Santana, her brow furrowing as she watches Santana palming t'shirts along the rail, seemingly uninterested in all of them. She had thought Santana loved shopping, but Santana doesn't seem like she even wants to be here. In fact, Santana looks downright miserable. Quinn sighs softly and makes her way across the store, stopping next to Santana and placing her hand on Santana's back. She rubs reassuringly and tilts her head to look into the teenager's dark eyes.

"Do you want to go back to my mom's?" Quinn softly questions. Santana gazes back at her, her chin quivering ever so slightly, but she shakes her head.

"No, I'm fine," Santana murmurs. "Just haven't seen anything I like yet."

"Are you sure?" Quinn asks, "because I don't mind. I know you're not feeling great and I'm more than happy to take a rain check. We can do this anytime," Quinn states with a kind smile. Santana feels guiltier than ever, Quinn is being so great and she's ruining their day out, but she just feels so damn miserable. She just can't stop thinking about Brittany and the repercussions of loving her.

"I'm fine," Santana repeats, but Quinn isn't convinced. Santana reaches out and pulls a random pair of jeans from one of the racks, "I'm gonna go try these on," she adds hurriedly. Quinn watches her rush off to the changing room, feeling more concerned than ever. All she wants to do is gather the teenager into her arms and shield her from whatever is hurting her, and make her feel safe and loved. Quinn slowly follows Santana and she sits down on the hard plastic seat outside of the changing rooms. Santana is the only person using a changing room, the others have their curtains pulled wide open, and Quinn can hear Santana sigh. Chewing on her bottom lip, Quinn watches Santana's shadow at the bottom of the curtain and frowns. It doesn't look like Santana is changing. "Fuck," she hears Santana whisper.

"Everything okay in there?" Quinn calls out and she hears Santana's small, sharp intake of breath. Santana hadn't noticed her presence.

"Yeah," Santana weakly call back, sounding anything but okay. Quinn frowns again and stares at the curtain. She hears a small sniffle and immediately rises from the chair,

"Santana?"

"I'm fine," Santana replies shakily, and Quinn can tell that the girl is crying.

"I'm coming in," Quinn tells her firmly. She moves the curtain and steps into the changing room, pulling the curtain back into place after her. "Oh, sweetheart..." Quinn gathers a tearful Santana into her arms and holds her tightly. "What's got you so upset?" Quinn asks softly, tears brimming in her hazel eyes as Santana's body shakes with silent sobs. "It's okay, baby, I'm right here," Quinn coos. "I've got you." Santana buries her face into Quinn's neck, tears freely flowing down her cheeks. She just can't hold them in any longer.

"I'm sorry," Santana chokes out, her tears dampening Quinn's skin. "I'm sorry for ruining it," she wails. Quinn tightens her arms around Santana,

"hey, hey, you didn't ruin anything," Quinn sincerely responds. "It's just a shopping trip, it doesn't matter," she promises, completely missing the true meaning behind Santana's words. "I'm right here, okay? Let it out, sweet girl." Santana's body violently shakes and she grips onto Quinn, holding onto her for dear life.

"I'm ruining everything," Santana sobs. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. So, so sorry," Santana swears.

"Why are you sorry, honey?" Quinn asks tenderly, "talk to me, Santana," she softly pleads. Santana pulls back, backing herself into the corner of the changing room and angrily swiping the tears from her face. "Please talk to me," Quinn begs, her own tears leaking from her eyes.

"I..." Santana freezes when she hears music suddenly blasting into the quiet space of the changing rooms. She knows that song, it's Quinn's ringtone for Brittany. Her heart pounds and she stares at Quinn, horrified with herself. She almost told her, she can't believe it, she had almost told Quinn. She had almost ripped their family apart. What is she doing? She needs to get a hold of herself, she needs to stop this. She needs to pull herself together. For Quinn and Rachel's sake, but also for Brittany's. She loves her too much to do this to her. Santana can't do this, she can't destroy Brittany's life.

"Shit," Quinn curses softly, rooting through her purse and grabbing her cell phone. She rejects the call and throws her cell phone back into her purse. She can call Brittany back later. Quinn gazes across at Santana and her heart sinks. She had been so close to getting Santana to open up to her, but now she knows it's a missed opportunity. Quinn can almost see Santana building that wall back up around herself. "Santana..."

"I'm sorry," Santana interrupts her, "I'm sorry. I'm fine, I just...I'm having a bad couple of days," Santana attempts to brush off her breakdown. "I just... can we go back now? I'm tired," Santana murmurs, sniffing loudly and brushing her tears from her cheeks. "I...my arm hurts and..."

"It's okay," Quinn tells her kindly, "we can go back." Quinn studies Santana carefully and forces herself to keep the disappointment from her face. She knows Santana has a horrible past, and she knows that it's going to be a while before Santana will fully open up to her, but she wishes that day would come sooner rather than later. As far as Quinn is concerned, Santana is her child. She loves her, and she wants nothing more than to fill her life with love, and happiness, and safety. "When you're ready to talk, I'll be there. No matter what time of day it is," Quinn promises.

"I know," Santana murmurs. "I'm just, I'm just not ready." Quinn smiles reassuringly,

"and that's perfectly alright, sweetie," she quietly states. "Take your time, it's your story to tell." Quinn may be desperate for Santana to open up to her, but she certainly isn't going to make her feel uncomfortable and rush her. Santana gazes at Quinn sadly. She knows that Quinn thinks it's her past issues that are messing her up and, while she loves that Quinn actually cares, it only makes her feel even more guilty.

"Okay," Santana whispers. She glances at Quinn's purse when she hears her new mother's cell phone chime, "I just need more time." Quinn nods, smiling at Santana. She can easily spot the fear and nerves on Santana's features, but she doesn't push the issue. She knows she needs to be patient.

"Maybe we should see about finding you someone to talk to," Quinn gently says and Santana stares at her in horror, her heart thumping wildly against her ribs.

"What?" she whispers, and Quinn doesn't seem to realise just how much her words had affected Santana.

"A therapist," Quinn softly clarifies. Santana's chest tightens, and she struggles to control her breathing. "They can help you."

_"No! I won't go!" Santana chest aches as her breathing falls out of her control. It's a major struggle to pull air into her lungs and her growing panic only increases the problem._

_"You will go, and you will fucking tell the shrink exactly what I tell you to." He's furious and it scares Santana more than she will admit. "I will not allow a dyke in my house, you will get fucking fixed!" he yells at her. "I will beat it out of you if I have to! Is that what you want, huh?! You want me to beat your disgusting habit out of you?" Santana feels her knees buckle and she sinks down onto her bed. She stares up at him, her dark eyes pleading with him to be reasonable._

_"Please," she whispers, fighting against her tears, "please. I won't look at the magazines anymore. I'll like boys! I promise, I'll like boys!" Her bottom lip quivers as she stares up at him, unable to hold back her tears any longer._

_"Stop your fucking crying," he orders. "I don't want to see your tears. You will speak to the therapist and you will let her fix you."_

_"Please," Santana tries again, begging him not to send her to this person._

_"You will go," he tells her, "or I will fix you myself."_

_**To be continued... your feedback is very much appreciated.**_


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